The Perfect Ending
by TheChemistJorax
Summary: The Normandy was more a home to her than any building she had ever inhabited. Life after the Reapers, because sometimes it's okay to have a happy ending.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Here we are! For any newcomers this is the third story in a series so get lost. For the rest of ya, welcome back!

Okay, getting the more serious stuff out of the way, and then we'll let the good times roll.

* * *

"I hear you've been making things as difficult as possible for everyone involved."

"People seem to be talking a lot about me these days."

"Well, you are the savior of the galaxy."

"Don't call me that," Shepard responded quickly, "not yet."

Miranda cocked her head to the side, once again swallowing the questions she had been denied answers to for over a month now. The details of what happened on the Citadel were known only to Shepard at this point, and the limited information she had realized felt forced and full of gaping holes. The Alliance would be pushing her for a statement eventually, but while she remained in the hospital healing it appeared as though Shepard would be given some peace at last.

Though it was frustrating, Miranda was starting to realize that she wouldn't be learning much of anything until she had completed the task Shepard had assigned her with. Whatever had happened to EDI and the Geth, Shepard seemed to feel responsible for it personally, and she was loathe to accept any sort of praise from her friends or the public as a result.

Tentatively, Miranda had begun spending her time away from Shepard aboard the Normandy with Tali and Garrus. The ship was docked not an hour away from the Earth hospital, at the request of Shepard only three days after she had awoken. Hackett had personally responded to the appeal without question, and Miranda was soon free to move about it as she wished.

She had never anticipated working so intimately with Garrus and Tali while not under Shepard's direct command, but Miranda found the experience more appealing than she would have initially predicted. They were smart; they could keep up with her. Since they were not calibrating any guns, Garrus was more an extra pair of hands than anything else, but Tali's technological expertise were impressing Miranda at every turn. It wasn't one of the carefully chosen, expert teams she was used to working with from her days with Cerberus, but she was comfortable, and as time went on a certain sort of kinship began to form between the three.

Of course, as the topic of their scientific venture was EDI, Joker was making frequent appearances. He would show up at inopportune moments, hinder their progress, and be quickly shooed away by a not quite as irritated as she should be Miranda. Though she was more guarded around them than she was with Shepard or her sister, Miranda couldn't help but feel somewhat relaxed in their presence. The Normandy was more a home to her than any building she had ever inhabited, and it was good to be working intellectually again. Having theories, proving and disproving them, that was where she thrived.

It was slow work, but they all grew more confident as time wore on. Being part Reaper technology, EDI was a bit difficult to figure out, but not impossible. At times, Miranda would be tempted to hack into Cerberus files and figure out what team had created her in the first place, push them for some information and speed the process along. It would be a pointless effort though, as the Alliance had every bit of Cerberus Intel on lockdown. The most frustrating thing was that it was an assignment she would have been a part of, one she might have even had headed, if not for being literally elbow deep in the Lazarus Project at the time.

With Tali by her side, the work went quickly though, and Miranda felt content with their progress. It went unsaid that their meetings were to be kept a secret, as intentionally creating an AI was still illegal, and Miranda was pleased with how confident she felt in them keeping their project quiet. They moved together as a unit, each agreeing that though it would be the easy way out, resetting the system would never be an option, they needed EDI back exactly as she had been, no matter how long it took.

For now though, they were taking a bit of a break, and as always, Miranda found herself sitting in the chair by Shepard's side. The woman was progressing along nicely, though it could take the better part of a year before she was in top form once more. Much to Miranda's annoyance, Shepard was actually slowing the healing process down for herself. The severity of her burns had left her a veritable mummy for the first half of her stay, and yet despite the obvious pain she was in, Shepard still managed to resist every bandage that was brought within an inch of her skin. With the bandages needing to be redressed twice daily, Miranda had been doing a lot of scolding as of late.

She felt bad, she knew how uncomfortable Shepard must feel, but her health was far more important than her discomfort or pride. As Shepard grew stronger each day, her resistance became more resolute, and the hospital staff became more and more frustrated.

"Well," Miranda responded coolly, "we've deviated from the point. You need to let them do their jobs. I hate sitting idle as much as you do, but you're only dragging out the process."

Shepard groaned in frustration, "By why do they have to touch everything _so much?_ Putting bandages on just to pull them off, these people are nuts, Miranda!"

Miranda resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Shepard, you know why they have to do that."

"Hmm," Shepard responded indignantly, clearly unconvinced, "I'd rather risk the infection thank you."

Eyes narrowing, Miranda shook her head, "And I would rather you didn't."

Shepard wiggled about the bed in frustration, "But it's so…itchy. Everything feels," She searched for the right word, "tight, like I'm all stretched out."

"Just try to relax," Miranda soothed, "It will be over and done with soon enough. You're helping nothing by going on about it all day."

Shooting her a glare, Shepard scoffed, "your sympathy is touching."

With a laugh, Miranda stood up from the chair and stretched her arms up to the ceiling, "It's a natural gift."

"Where are you going?" Shepard questioned earnestly as she watched the woman head towards the door, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"Get some sleep, Shepard. I just have some things I want to talk to Tali about; I'll be back later tonight."

Pouting, Shepard fell back onto her pillow, wondering just what on this planet could possibly be more interesting than her.

* * *

Tali sighed, "It's not like we have many options, this is the best we can do. We're at the end of the line here, I can't help but feel like we're just stalling now."

Garrus laughed, "Well we are. But I agree with Miranda, it's not like we can just turn her off again if we made a mistake and she doesn't recognize us."

They stood around the AI Core in the Normandy, trying to convince themselves they knew what they were doing.

"Tali," Miranda began slowly, careful to not sound overbearing, "She's an AI. Once we bring her online, she going to be a person. I can't just turn her off until we get her the way we want her."

Leaning against the wall, clearly deep in thought, Garrus began speaking slowly as he formed his idea aloud, "What if, as a sort of safeguard, we have somebody she was close to nearby. The first person she 'sees', I don't know if it will work the same way for her as it does for us organics, but I've heard stories of people regaining their memories as a result of contact with family members or even close friends. Sometimes it's even just a particular object."

Miranda crossed her arms thoughtfully, "It certainly would be worth a try," she hesitated for a moment as Shepard's damned influence flooded her mind, and she knew just what the woman would say, "but we can't do that to Joker. If it fell through and she had no idea who he was…"

"Well why don't we use Shepard?" Tali chimed in.

When Miranda didn't look convinced, Garrus took a step forward, "I know you weren't really around, but EDI was really starting to look up to Shepard in the end. They were quite close; Shepard was taking good care of her."

An affectionate smile graced Miranda's lips, she should have known, "Well, I suppose she will be happy to be free of that room for an hour or two."

* * *

Both Tali and Garrus had tried to be polite at first while they were waiting together on the Normandy, but the insistent bickering of the two women approaching quickly had them breaking up into laughter.

Shepard was seated in a wheelchair, feeling foolish and undignified as Miranda wheeled her along briskly. Of course she was making her feelings known, and quite loudly at that.

"Would you just relax," Miranda was scolding in annoyance as they entered the room, "there's no shame in taking precautions."

"I've still got legs, lady," Shepard shot back angrily before smiling up at her two friends, "ahh, it's good to be back."

Garrus laughed, "its only temporary I'm afraid. Are you ready?"

As Tali moved to start EDI up, Miranda's hands tightened their grip on the handles of the chair in anticipation. Her face must have given way to her nerves as she soon noticed Shepard's head tilted back and staring up at her.

"Hey, don't worry about it; you know you do damn fine work."

Miranda shot her an exasperated look, causing the woman to grin. When EDI was present, Tali and Garrus both turned to face their commander, looking for guidence. Shepard was merely grining, she had complete confidence in her team.

"Hey, EDI, have you heard that one about the Salarian and the Krogan?"

There was silence, and then a familiar voice was echoing all around them, "Of course, Shepard, might I suggest you research some more recent material? I can send you some to your private terminal if you desire aid."

A laugh filled with relief bubbled up through Shepard's chest, and that horrible weight that had been dragging her heart into her stomach since she had pulled the trigger on the Reapers had dissolved as though it never even existed.

"Thanks, EDI. I would appreciate that."

"My pleasure, Commander."

Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Shepard's demeanor changed drastically as soon as Joker was called to come over. For the first time in a long time she resembled her former self. Tali and Garrus had stayed behind and were filling the AI in on what she had missed in her time away, and the two women were on their way bak to the hospital. Of course, the triumphant feeling of success that had once flooded through her was short lived for Miranda as she was already being driven up the wall.

"You know you have to get her back in that body now, right?"

"I know, Shepard. One thing at a time. Let's get you back now."

Shepard's eyes widened in horror, "No! Wait, I still have to," She paused, looking around the elevator frantically, "do stuff. Here. Right now."

Miranda rolled her eyes and pushed her out into the CIC when the doors opened, not faltering for a single step.

"This is our chance Miranda, get me up to Joker's chair and let's get out of here. I'll be half way to Tuchanka before they even notice I'm gone."

"Not a chance, Shepard."

"Oh wait! My terminal! I've gotta have some messages."

"I'll take care of them later, Shepard."

"The fish! I have to feed the fish!"

"You set up an automatic system months ago."

"How do you always know everything all the time? It's awful."

"My deepest apologies."

"You could at least run as fast as you can and give me a little fun for once."

"Not on your life."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is the first time I've written the author's note before the chapter itself, it feels quite strange. Anywho, I'm sorry this took longer than usual. I've lost a bit of steam lately, as I've been playing Dragon Age 2 again. The Hawke and Isabela feelings are making a comeback, so Miranda and Shepard have fallen to the wayside a bit. My deepest apologies.

Okay, guess I'll start typing blindly now with no plan whatsoever, wish me luck!

* * *

There was another week and a half of life in the hospital for the pair of them, and with EDI sorted and Shepard on the mend, Miranda tried to push away the thoughts that her purpose there had been served. She kept waiting for a member of the staff or even one of Shepard's numerous well wishers to question her presence. It never happened, but Miranda was eager to get out of that environment all the same. There were just so many other people around them all the time; it was exhausting having to entertain so many guests in the tiny room. In her weakened state, it was a wonder Shepard put up with it at all and didn't simply deny everyone entry.

Currently, it was one of the rare occasions they found themselves alone. Miranda sat in the uncomfortable chair beside the bed, legs tucked up against her chest, while Shepard lay snuggled beneath a pile of blankets, scrolling absentmindedly through the news on her omnitool.

"Look at this, there's a report here that I'm dead," Shepard chuckled in disbelief, "the Alliance is keeping my passing a secret so as not to upset the public, fancy that."

Miranda smirked, "I had heard Joker was considering consenting to an interview."

Shaking her head in amusement, Shepard continued on through the information, "Well I'm glad he's having a good time at least."

"Do you think you'll ever let them talk to you or…" Miranda trailed off carefully, knowing Shepard's relationship with most reporters was volatile at best.

Shepard sighed, "Unless the Alliance demands I personally make a public statement I'll be staying clear of that circus, thanks."

Nodding in understanding, Miranda leaned forward to rest her chin on her knees, "Well I'm sure you'll have to say something at some point."

Shepard scoffed, "Whatever. All I care about is getting out of here as soon as possible. The politics can wait."

Miranda hesitated for a moment before speaking, "So, what's your plan then?"

They hadn't really talked about it, but Shepard didn't exactly have a place to go. The Citadel cleanup process was well underway, but it was not yet habitable. Even if it were, Shepard had had Miranda send Kahlee Sanders a message a few days prior that stated when everything was once again up and running, Anderson's apartment was hers to do with what she will. The only other place Shepard could consider home was the Normandy, and as the ship was still owned by the Alliance, that was obviously a less than permanent solution.

"Well," Shepard answered with an unconcerned shrug, "Hackett sent word earlier that he knew I was being released tonight. Said something about getting everything worked out for me, I just needed to wait around for a bit."

Miranda fought the urge to roll her eyes.

_**Oh good, the Alliance is dictating her future now too.**_

Shepard gave her a curious look. "You know," she started thoughtfully; "it's going to be weird. The Alliance is out in force on cleanup duty, and apparently I'm not cleared for any 'fieldwork'. I was grounded on Earth for awhile, yeah, but even then I was still in a military base. I feel like I can't even remember what it's like to live as a civilian."

With a bitter laugh, Miranda responded quickly, "It's not all its hyped up to be."

Shepard smirked, "Well I don't intend on being on the run in the slums of Omega."

Miranda's eyes narrowed in response, prompting a laugh from Shepard, "Oh relax. Anyhow, speaking of your escapades, I trust you're in the clear these days."

"Well," Miranda unconsciously began to chew on her lip while she considered her answer, "I believe so, yes."

"That's not the confidence I was expecting," Shepard responded suspiciously.

With a sigh, Miranda began to backpedal, "I should be just fine. The Illusive Man's vendetta against me was a personal one, I'm sure it died with him. It's just; there were a lot of powerful humans in this universe with quite substantial investments in Cerberus. Not that I knew each of them personally, but I know the type, Shepard. They won't be content with the current state of affairs."

"Do you think they'll want revenge?" Shepard questioned incredulously, "Or maybe that they'll want to rebuild Cerberus?"

Miranda shook her head, clearly weighing the possible outcomes of the situation, "All I know for certain is that at the very least they will be looking to have their assets reclaimed."

"Well, all we can do is keep our noses out of trouble and hope that they are so distracted by being fabulously wealthy that we slip under their radar," Shepard responded easily with a shrug.

Miranda rolled her eyes, begrudgingly jealous of Shepard's nonchalance when faced with the same uncertainties that kept her awake at night.

"I suppose so," She finally said, realizing they really had no other option.

"Hey," Shepard was sitting up in the bed now, an almost worried expression gracing her features, "so what have you, uh, been thinking about now that everything is getting back to normal?"

Her head tilted to the side a bit as Miranda responded, "Thinking?"

"You know," Shepard sounded exasperated, and was gesturing towards Miranda wildly in her frustration, "_thinking._"

"Shepard, what are you talking-"but Miranda was cut off when Shepard's omnitool chimed cheerily, signifying an oncoming message.

"Oh for the love of-" Shepard grumbled as she fumbled with the device, "hold on."

Miranda waited patiently and watched with interest as Shepard concentrated on her task. In an instant, an unfamiliar voice filled the room.

"Uh, um, hello? This is Jeremy Booker, I was told to relay a message from Admiral Hackett."

"Hello there, Jeremy," Shepard responded quickly, attempting to sound cheerful despite her annoyance at the interruption, "What can I do for you?"

The obviously young man hesitated before continuing, clearly a bit rattled at the now legendary commander's casual greeting, "I, um, I was supposed to inform you that temporary lodgings have been acquired for your use here on Earth until you are once again fit for duty and able to reclaim your position aboard the Normandy, sir," He all but squeaked in embarrassment, "oh no! Er, Ma'am. Yes."

Miranda smiled as Shepard shot her a sympathetic look, "Relax, kid. Send me the location when you can, and give Hackett my thanks."

"Yes, Ma'am. And may I just say, it was an honor speaking with you."

It was hard not to laugh as Miranda watched Shepard's face sour at the praise, clearly uncomfortable with the universes' new adoration of her. Some evil part of Miranda couldn't wait to watch the woman's agony as she emerged into the public eye once more, the results were sure to be amusing.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Booker."

The call ended then, punctuated by a heavy sigh from Shepard, "This is going to be awful."

"That's what you get for playing hero," Miranda reminded her unhelpfully, smiling when Shepard scowled, "if only somebody had given you great advice about staying out of the front lines…" Miranda trailed of wistfully, reveling in Shepard's annoyance.

"And you said you weren't funny," She grumbled, arms crossed.

With a sad smile, Miranda turned away, "So, a place on Earth. That's just about as domesticated as you can get, think you can handle it?"

Shepard gave a mock shudder, "More terrifying than any Reaper."

"I am just trying to imagine you doing the grocery shopping," Miranda threw in mischievously.

A small smirk passed along Shepard's lips, but disappeared as quickly as it had come, "About what I said before," She hesitated, clearly unsure of how to continue.

"Stop that," Miranda reprimanded gently as Shepard began pulling at the bandages on her left arm in her nervousness.

"Sorry," she stilled her hand, and shifted a bit where she sat, "I just, uh, about the thinking. What have you thought about those…thinking...thoughts?"

Miranda stared at her blankly.

"Right, sorry," Shepard faltered suddenly, "never mind. I was just, you know, asking."

She sized Miranda up for a minute, prompting the woman to grow a bit concerned, "Asking what? Is everything okay?"

Shepard shifted anxiously atop her bed, starting to feel defensive at being questioned, "Yeah, it would be if you'd just pay attention."

"I'm sorry, what?" Miranda shot back, clearly fighting a laugh, "There's nothing to pay attention to, you've been spouting nonsense."

Brow furrowing in irritation, Shepard all but growled, "Don't make fun of me. I'm trying to be serious for once, and you're ruining it." She sounded like a young child.

Sliding her legs off the chair and onto the floor, Miranda crossed her arms in slight annoyance, "Maybe if you just said what you wanted and stopped taking shots at me in the process this would go a bit more smoothly, hmm?"

Shepard's arms were now crossed as well, and she slumped ungracefully down into her pillow, an exaggerated pout overtaking her face, "You don't have to talk to me with that attitude you know."

Miranda's mouth fell open in disbelief, "_I'm_ the one with the attitude?"

"Yeah," Shepard spat back, "that whole 'holier than thou' thing you've got going on."

Now thoroughly offended, Miranda scoffed in exasperation "Excuse me? Sorry I was having some trouble sorting out all of the incoherent babbling."

Shepard shot her a hard glare, "Well, maybe if you stopped being all intimidating and perfect human specimen-y then we wouldn't have these problems in the first place."

"Oh my god," Miranda groaned. She wasn't quite sure where this was going, but it already looked as though it was going to be something she didn't like, "would you grow up and just say what you mean?"

"Fine," Shepard responded, her voice high and her tone heated, "I was just wondering what your plans for the future were."

"Well I haven't had time to think about that while I've been running your personal errands for the past month and a half, now have I?"

"Well then you should probably stay with me until you figure out what you want to do."

"Maybe I will."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Great."

"Well, that settles it then," Shepard snarled as she rolled over in a huff, turning away from Miranda, who was desperately trying to squash the elation rising in her chest with the artificial notion that she was totally still furious with Shepard.

* * *

As the hour had been quite late, and Shepard had insisted on traversing the streets with the hood of her favorite N7 sweatshirt drawn tightly over her head, they had managed to reach the apartment building without being recognized by any who crossed their path. It was a small structure, homely and sparsely decorated, but something about the quaintness of it was inviting.

As the Reapers had targeted big cities, and cleanup was proving to be a monumental task, places like this were some of the few who still had vacancies. Many humans had fled Earth, and an obscene amount had not lasted to see the end of the war, but even still there seemed to be issues with providing everyone with adequate shelter. Miranda was surprised Hackett had managed to find anything for Shepard at all.

They stood in the doorway of their new home, appraising the small space appreciatively before Shepard set her bags down on the floor a couple of paces in. They had made a quick pit stop at the docked Normandy to collect her possessions, as the ship was needed back in action now that the work on EDI was complete for the time being. Shepard had put up a bit of a stink when she realized somebody else would be taking temporary command of her vessel, but she had calmed a bit when the Alliance assured her Joker would remain at the helm. The Normandy could offer a lot of suffering people aid, so she would have to accept it.

Miranda followed her into the room slowly, careful not to jostle the glass tank in her hands. Tali had been caring for the brave little space hamster since Shepard had been out of commission, but now it had fallen into the commander's care once more. She had nothing else but a small pack of the clothes she had managed to hold on to slung across her shoulder, as no other property had survived the journey. As soon as Miranda had resigned from Cerberus, any credits she had saved in her account over the years had mysteriously disappeared. The few small caches of funds she had hidden in case of emergency hadn't lasted long, and anything of value had been quickly sold or traded. Living on the run hadn't been cheap, and information on Oriana was quite expensive. It was an interesting sensation, having to completely rebuild a life.

"Hmm," Shepard scanned the room carefully, "I like it."

With a laugh, Miranda headed into the modest kitchen space and gently rested the space hamster, which had been quite frustratingly dubbed Space Hamster, down on the counter, "You haven't even seen the whole place yet."

Shepard waved her hand in the air dismissively, "I can tell, it's got a good vibe."

She moved into what was now their tiny living room and plopped down unceremoniously on the couch. Miranda moved to stand in front of her, hands on her hips, "Are you seriously not even going to look around?"

"Oh but I'm so tired," Shepard whined childishly.

With a heavy sigh, Miranda shook her head, "At least unpack, we're not having luggage piled about for days."

"Oh boy, already we're setting rules," Shepard called out to nobody in particular. The comment would have earned her a smack if not for the obvious teasing tone of her voice.

"Just get a move on," Miranda responded with a laugh, "you're already driving me up the wall."

Shepard stood with a smart salute, "Yes, Ma'am."

* * *

Miranda sat on the foreign bed, absently watching Space Hamster scurry about the cage that rested atop what was now to be their dresser. Shepard was in the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom, brushing her teeth in the open doorway with gusto.

"Mmhf oi dink oui haf to-"

Nose scrunched up in disgust, Miranda shook her head, "Just wait until you're done, for heaven's sake."

Shepard rolled her eyes before turning back into the bathroom to spit into the sink with exaggerated volume for dramatic effect.

When she returned, she wore a sly smirk, "What I was saying was that it looks like we're going to need to do a bit of shopping tomorrow. You need some clothes, and I'm sure the kitchen is empty."

As Shepard clamored into bed beside her, Miranda began to feel a little uneasy. It was foolish, but she was starting to believe that this new domestic life might be the most frightening one she had ever been faced with leading.

Suddenly, it was dawning on her how new this situation was. Nobody was going to be injured or dying, nobody was on the run or facing impossible odds. There was just the present, and them, and the infinite unknown of the future.

As they settled down side by side, Miranda marveled over how little they knew of each other in circumstances such as this, and how little they knew of themselves. The future was looking quite scary that night, and sleep had difficulty finding Miranda as she pondered over what uncertainties the sunrise would bring.

How different were things going to be here? What if things were_ too _different? How was this ever going to last? What if it _couldn't_ last?

And how on Earth was she going to survive shopping with Commander Shepard?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Don't go giving me any ideas about writing Dragon Age stuff; I've been fighting the urge for weeks now. Maybe one day, my friend. For now, I'd love to actually finish something on this site for once haha

This is a pretty nonsense chapter, but I had a lot of fun with it. Based on my adventures with my Miranda and Shepard Sims 3 file (yup I'm that much of a creep) :D

* * *

"No, Shepard," Miranda groaned, "that's disgusting. Get it for yourself if you want, but I'm not eating them."

Shepard waved the package in front of Miranda's face in protest, "This is classic human food. If you are going to settle down on Earth you have to go all away. We're in America, Miranda, ya gotta go native."

Eyeing the hot dogs suspiciously, Miranda prodded the package gently with a single finger, "I don't even think that's real meat."

With a sigh, Shepard shook her head, "Now I _know _you had a rough childhood." When Miranda shot her a warning glare Shepard merely laughed it off, "I just mean, it must have been hard, eating caviar all day every day from your silver spoon."

Smiling despite herself, Miranda sniffed in mock anger, "It was gold, actually."

"Uh huh, very cute," Shepard tossed the package into their nearby carriage, "I'm not going to force you, but I think you should give it a try. You might be surprised."

Miranda looked doubtful, "I think I'll stick with foods that are not quite so…_processed._"

Shaking her head, Shepard followed Miranda as she began to direct their cart further down the aisle. Out of the corner of her eye, Miranda noticed a sly look flicker across Shepard's features.

"Oh I see what's going on," Shepard suddenly began sagely, "feeling a little homesick, huh?"

"What?" Miranda asked in a disinterested tone, she had been dealing with incessant teasing all morning, and for whatever reason Shepard was absolutely brimming with energy. Miranda guessed it must have stemmed from being cooped up in that hospital room for so long, but that didn't make it any more tolerable.

As they continued past the shelves side by side Shepard continued, "Nothing, I just, I know I could make you feel a little more comfortable. We could head back home for lunch later, and I'll throw some shrimp on the barbie."

Miranda paused mid step, "What?"

"Or you know," Shepard was grinning wildly, "bangers and mash, eh?"

With a fiery gaze, Miranda turned to face Shepard, but that only seemed to enhance the woman's fun, "Nothing like some good tucker after lot's o' hard yacka."

"Oh my god," Miranda was moving forward again, much more quickly now, "If you're going to be an ass at least use the phrases correctly."

"Oi, that's rubbish, mate."

* * *

Shepard sat in what was often referred to as the 'husband chair', trying to conceal as much of her face as possible. She had been enjoying her time back out and about in the world greatly, but was finding the amount of people unnerving. So determined was she to remain anonymous, Shepard once again donned her N7 sweatshirt with the hood up, despite having to travel through the heat of the day. A pair of sunglasses, which Miranda had oh so helpfully pointed out as being horrendously tacky, completed the outfit.

Now, the great savior of the galaxy sat on the uncomfortable little bench outside of dressing room six, feeling unbearably hot, and more than a little foolish. Of course, to make matters worse, she had been denied entry into the changing booth. Despite her best efforts, she was forced to wait patiently outside, all the while knowing that a mostly naked Miranda Lawson was just behind a flimsy curtain. Shepard had promised she would only look and not touch, but all that had earned her was a soft swat to the back of the head.

Reluctantly, she had settled for taking on the role of passing various items of clothing to the disembodied hand that occasionally shot out from behind the drape. Shepard had quickly found the job wasn't all bad however, as she soon discovered that she could get away with running out into the store front to make a few unconventional additions to the pile Miranda had collected earlier.

"Next," Miranda's hand was once more poking out from between the curtain and the wall.

"Here you are," Shepard replied cheerily, as she passed over one of her personal picks.

The hand retracted into the booth, and then immediately shot out once more, "Nice try. Give me something I picked up."

"No wait; just try it," Shepard whined, "Please?"

There was a sigh from the booth, and then what Miranda had now counted to be the third pair of flannel pants Shepard had forced upon her was pulled inside, "Fine, but I'm getting a little concerned at this apparent pajama fetish of yours."

* * *

They had returned to the apartment in the late afternoon, only to immediately turn around and head back out after realizing they needed some more food for Space Hamster. And then little realizations started cropping up, things they had never really been concerned with before. They needed dishes, silverware, glasses, napkins, pots, pans, more toiletries, towels, laundry detergent, and a host of other supplies. They needed to really start a life.

When they finally returned for good, both women were exhausted. They collapsed together on the couch, too hungry to do anything, too tired to eat, and so they chatted about a whole lot of nothing until evening.

Miranda was dozing contentedly; head slumped on Shepard's shoulder, when her stomach interrupted the peace. When her eyes reluctantly flickered open, she was met with Shepard's excited gaze.

"Time for hot dogs?"

Shaking her head defiantly, Miranda rejected the idea instantly, "Why can't we have real food?"

Shepard jostled her gently as she stood up, eyes practically glowing with amusement, "Miranda, these hot dogs are as real as the plastic used to mold them."

Miranda shot out her tongue in disgust as Shepard threw her a wink, "Come on, lady. Have an open mind."

* * *

The best part about the experience was that if nothing else, they were finished cooking rather quickly. The worst part was when Shepard held up the package in front of Miranda's face to show off the juice that had collected at the bottom.

"Meat water," She stated simply.

Miranda shuddered and turned away until the process was over.

When they were both sitting at the little round table that had been supplied for them by the edge of the kitchen, Shepard had launched into what she thought to be a very interesting lesson on the uses of hot dogs.

"See, and it's great because when I was little we would cut them up and put them in our eggs. Oh, or sometimes in our pasta when we were out of sauce."

Miranda was less than impressed as she warily appraised her plate. Now she was expected to be eating potato chips as well, as Shepard had fervently declared in the snack aisle that it would really bring the whole occasion together.

"Okay, now let me show you the right way to do this," Shepard said, rubbing her hands together in excitement.

"There's a method?" Miranda asked incredulously.

"There is if you are awesome," Shepard replied smugly with a wink, "which I am."

With a quiet scoff, Miranda watched as Shepard set about her work. She coated one side of the bun with mayonnaise, and then filled the opposite side with broken up chips, setting the hot dog triumphantly down in the center.

"That's disgusting."

"That's food turned art, my dear."

Miranda shook her head, "Well I'll just have mine plain for now, Picasso."

Shepard shrugged, "Your loss. You can eat yours separately if you like, but it's all going down the same pipe in the end."

With a roll of her eyes, Miranda laughed, "I'll keep that in mind."

The hot dog was delicious, not that she'd ever tell.

* * *

They spent the rest of the night doing the menial tasks they had never fully experienced before. There had always been somebody to clean up after them, a cook on the ship to wash the dishes or to gather up the leftovers. It was funny, how exciting the process felt when they attempted it themselves.

Miranda had always enjoyed keeping things orderly, and it surprisingly turned out to be a blessing that Shepard didn't seem to care. She put up no resistance as Miranda sorted out what went where in the many drawers and cabinets of the kitchen, and assisted without a word.

The process took awhile, and proved to be rather draining, but eventually they were satisfied with the results. It wasn't until afterwards, when Miranda was in the shower washing the day from her skin, and Shepard was trying ineffectively to teach Space Hamster to play dead for a nibble of potato chip, that Hackett himself made a call.

Shepard accepted the audio call on her omnitool, feeling rather confused, "is everything okay, sir?"

Hackett seemed to hesitate, "Yes, how are you settling in?" but before she could answer he was already rushing on, "Listen, I'm sorry to call on you so late, I was just hoping I could ask you a few questions. Now that everything is getting back to normal over here, we've been getting back to the more…political side of things. I've heard that the Cerberus agent Miss. Lawson will be staying with you for the time being?"

Shepard's stomach tightened, "She is, yes."

"I would like to speak with her, Shepard. We've been having some confusion on our side. Between the data we've collected from the Illusive Man's base, the information from Sanctuary, and your own intelligence, there's a lot of conflicting reports."

"I'm sorry," Shepard responded awkwardly, rubbing at the back of her neck, "She's indisposed at the moment. Wouldn't it be better to go through EDI? She practically lived in their computer."

To her surprise, Hackett laughed, "You mean the illegal AI that was rebuilt on one of my ships without Alliance consent? No Shepard, EDI offered us some information, yes, but she was integrated into their newest systems; she wouldn't know anything the Illusive Man didn't want her to. I need to speak to someone who has been with Cerberus for much longer, someone who might have taken to gathering information they shouldn't have been."

Shepard sighed, that sure did sound like Miranda all right.

"Please, Shepard, just give her my contact information first thing in the morning."

Despite the strong urge to reject his request, to keep Miranda far away from anything having to do with Cerberus, Shepard finally relented, "Okay, sir. Just," She hesitated, "can you tell me something about what is going on? Should I be worried here?"

He released a haggard breath, "No, Shepard. I've got it all under control, just focus on getting some rest."

She didn't feel very confident as he ended the call, and turned back to her little hamster's tank with much less enthusiasm. She was still going at it when Miranda emerged from the shower, begrudgingly dressed in her new flannel pants at Shepard's request. Funny, she had sworn she had returned them to their place on the shelf, and yet they had mysteriously turned up in her bags anyhow. Shepard assured her that she was equally mystified.

She walked up behind Shepard to observe the woman's work, as she vigorously rubbed a towel through her hair, "No luck?"

Shepard grimaced, "It's almost like all he cares about is scratching and digging. He won't even look at me."

Miranda laughed, "Oh, leave the poor thing alone for a bit."

"Fine," Shepard relented with a sigh before pointing an accusing finger at the rodent, "But this isn't over, pal."

Space Hamster took a step forward to sniff the finger carefully, and then opened its mouth to take a quick nibble.

"Hey!" Shepard shouted as she yanked her hand to safety, "You little traitor."

An affectionate smile spread across Miranda's face as she pulled Shepard towards the bed with her free hand. When Shepard complied Miranda moved back to the bathroom to hang up her towel and turn off the light.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?"

Shepard shrugged as she pulled down the covers and snuggled down into the bed, "I dunno. Whatever we want, I guess." She decided to wait until morning to tell Miranda about Hackett. She didn't want to see the woman stressing about it all night.

"Hmm," Miranda hummed thoughtfully as she moved to join Shepard, "I don't really know what I want. It feels kind of pathetic."

Shepard laughed and pulled her close as soon as she hit the pillow, "Don't think about it like that. We'll figure it out tomorrow. For now let's just rest."

"Okay," Miranda shifted so she could turn off the light beside the bed, and then settled back into Shepard's embrace.

Her eyes were drifting shut when she felt rogue fingers dipping into the waistband of her pants. She scoffed and didn't bother opening her eyes, "I thought we were resting?"

With a laugh, Shepard let her hands trail lower, "I was trying. Maybe you should stop being such a tease."

Miranda shivered involuntarily at the contact, "I was-" there was a sharp intake of breath as Shepard moved in to kiss her neck, "I was just sleeping."

Suddenly, Shepard was above her, hands roaming everywhere at once, a mischievous tone lacing her words, "I see. It must just be your natural allure then."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ah, good catch JosieRevisited, I must start editing properly for a change. I shall strive to do better, my friend. I'm glad you are enjoying the humor. It's hard with these two. I'm trying not to fall into the trap of Shepard being the funny one and Miranda being the hard ass, while also keeping Miranda herself. I think she would lighten up over time, but for now, slow steps.

Anywho, Are you guys ready? I did warn you this would get awfully silly…

* * *

When morning arrived, and Miranda had spoken with Hackett, Shepard was left with feeling nothing but unease. Something was wrong, and the Alliance didn't want her knowing about it. For her part, Miranda just seemed vaguely confused by the whole line of questioning. Hackett wanted answers that she didn't have, and was inquiring about things that shouldn't have mattered.

Where she had been at certain times, who had been involved in what assignments, what investors had backed certain projects. All things Miranda couldn't reasonably be expected to remember, and she didn't know the location of the magical secret data cache that the Alliance seemed to be so desperately looking for.

It didn't take long for Hackett to gather he wasn't getting what he needed, and before even an hour had passed, he was gone. Miranda and Shepard sat on the edge of the bed, sizing each other up.

"Do you think this is something we should be nervous about?" Shepard finally asked, not quite sure she wanted to know the answer.

"Do _you_?" Miranda countered quickly.

"I asked you first."

"I think we should always be cautious, about everything," Miranda finally admitted after some deliberation.

Shepard sighed, "I wanted you to answer as if you were a normal person, not be all Miranda-y and paranoid."

Miranda crossed her arms resentfully, "Fine," she put on her best impression of Shepard's voice, "Everything's fine and everyone's immortal all the time. This is the best day ever, nothing could possibly go wrong. Ever. In my entire life. Everything is perfection-"

"Okay," Shepard cut in a bit defensively.

"Nobody can ever get hurt because everything is rainbows-"

"We get it."

"I love everybody and there will be galactic peace for all until the end of time just because I say so."

"Alright, I'm sorry!"

* * *

Miranda and Shepard quickly found that they had quite a few guests who were hoping to stop by the new apartment. Their old friends and crewmates were getting back on their feet now, and many had hoped to make an appearance soon and check up on Shepard.

As the place was small, it was quickly determined they would be hosting no wild parties anytime soon. In the end, Shepard had suggested they respond to Oriana first. She was nearby, had not seen her sister in over a month, and seemed to be looking to stay a few nights to catch up.

Miranda consented and soon Oriana was explaining to her understandably hesitant parents that she would be spending the weekend with her sort-of-ex-terrorist-but-not-really estranged sister and the legendary Commander Shepard who not a few days ago was rumored as deceased. It went over pretty well, all things considered.

Shepard, who had gone out for a walk around the neighborhood to give the sisters some alone time, hood drawn and shades on of course, quickly regretted her decision to return so soon immediately after she passed through the doorway.

"Ori, that's incredibly dangerous, not to mention irresponsible," Miranda's voice was raised, though she appeared to be more alarmed than angry.

Oriana sat on the couch, arms crossed, "It was one time!"

"That's all it takes for something to happen," Miranda countered easily.

Shepard, who had by now gathered what the conversation was about, tried to slip by unnoticed. She wasn't eager to start giving seminars on the importance of safe sex to troubled teens.

The plan was unsuccessful however, as Miranda caught sight of her, "Ask Shepard, I'm sure she agrees with me."

"Woah now," Shepard put her hands up, "I want no part of it, thank you."

Oriana, who took Shepard's lack of involvement as support for her side, smiled gratefully. Miranda wasn't amused, "This isn't a joke. Look, I'm not trying to beat up on you here, but this is really serious. It can't happen again."

With a forced laugh, Oriana glanced away, "Well it kind of did…already…it was, uh, twice. Two times."

Miranda looked like she was about to explode, so Shepard begrudgingly realized it was about time to step in, "Hey, take it easy there, Miranda. She's a kid; they're supposed to be stupid."

"Hey!" Oriana cut in, clearly offended.

Shepard shushed her, "You've given her a lecture, she won't do it again, I'm sure. You can't change what happened by yelling at her."

Empowered by Shepard's verbal support, Oriana put in her two cents, "Yeah, and besides, Danner said it wouldn't be a problem because-"

"Oh stop right there," Miranda interrupted, "I don't even want to hear whatever story you fell for." She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, "What a bloody mess."

Shepard couldn't help but laugh at that, "Yeah, Oriana, you better knock it off or she's gonna hop onto her kangaroo and leave."

Miranda cut off her laughter with an icy glare, "Oh, shut up."

Shepard sobered quickly as she felt Miranda's attention shift to herself.

"And would you stop wearing that ridiculous outfit? People are going to think we're drug dealers."

* * *

Besides that one slight hiccup, the rest of the weekend passed by in a happy blur. Oriana was pleased, as Miranda seemed content to drop the topic for the time being. Miranda was pleased, as Oriana seemed to be enjoying her stay immensely. And Shepard was pleased because there were still some leftover potato chips.

Miranda had spent the morning at the store, picking up some milk, as Shepard apparently had an affinity for it and they had run out rather quickly. Shepard had refused to join her now that she had been banned from wearing what she referred to as her 'protective gear', and Oriana had stayed behind to keep her company.

When she had returned from the brief outing, Miranda wasn't prepared for the state of the living room.

"What the-" Miranda was floored. How on Earth could two people make such a mess in so little time? That's when she noticed the third person. A young boy sat beside Shepard, a happy grin along his features.

Shepard's cheerful face popped up over the couch at the sound of her voice, "Why hello there! Come see what we did."

Reluctantly, Miranda took a few steps closer for a better look. Shepard and Oriana sat with the boy around a mess of objects. Towels, pans, pillows, books, bags, and the odd cardboard box were strewn about in a peculiar fashion. The coffee table was turned on its side, and Oriana seemed to be attempting to hide behind it.

"We made a town for Space Hamster," Shepard explained with her arms outstretched proudly.

"Oh my god."

"I tried to stop her," Oriana squeaked apologetically.

Shepard huffed, "Says the girl who made the swinging bridge. Look," She moved forward and pointed to a couple of boxes, "this is the library. And this over here, this is the school."

"Uh huh," Miranda cut in, "and who is this?"

"Hmm?" Shepard looked confused, "Oh, right. Miranda, this is Kyle. Kyle, Miranda."

"Hullo," He said shyly, offering a small wave.

Softening a bit, Miranda tried to answer warmly despite her annoyance, "Hi, Kyle."

"Kyle lives a few doors down," Shepard explained, "his aunt had a bit of an accident so his mother had to leave for a few hours. She saw Oriana and I throwing the trash down the chute and I guess she recognized me from the one of Allers' interviews, figured I'd be a safe bet on short notice I suppose."

Miranda's eyes drifted to the makeshift village, where she noticed Space Hamster sitting in a little push toy car that must have belonged to Kyle. It appeared as though Shepard had loaded it with treats to make him stay put, as the boy very gently guided him around.

"And what's that there?"

"Ah, that would be your be your bath towel."

"I see, there's a little something extra for me I guess."

"Yes, well, that would, uh…that would be a pee stain. Hamster, of course."

"Right, thanks. I got that, yeah."

Shepard seemed rather unapologetic about the whole affair, so there was no battle to be won here. Biting her tongue in front of the child, Miranda simply turned on her heels and stormed into the kitchen. The milk was getting warm.

* * *

At first, Shepard's brief ventures in babysitting had seemed a relatively inconsequential event. Kyle's mother returned before eight o'clock as she had promised, and thanked all three women profusely while offering a modest amount of credits for their time. They refused the payment of course, and the two left, as did Oriana the morning after. Miranda oversaw Shepard's demolition of Hamsterville, as they had taken to calling it, and soon everything was back to normal.

Except it wasn't, because Kyle's uncle was very fond of his nephew and inquired as to his whereabouts. Kyle's mother explained how the most incredible happenstance had occurred; Commander Shepard herself lived just a few doors down and had quite willingly offered to look after the boy. Now, Kyle's family happened to be very respectful and private people who would never gossip about such things. Unfortunately, by chance, the young nurse Nicole, who was in the hospital room tending to Kyle's aunt when the information was reveled, did not share those qualities.

The first thing Nicole did when she got off her shift was tell her boyfriend, Brian, that she was taking care of somebody who's family was friends with Commander Shepard. When Brian's mother called the apartment the next day to check up on him and ask if anything exciting had happened to him recently, he happily shared that his girlfriend knew somebody that knew somebody who knew Commander Shepard.

Of course, as soon as she arrived at the office, the first thing Brian's mother told her friends was that her son was dating someone who knew someone who knew someone who knew Commander Shepard. And the news spread through the building like a wildfire, quickly seeping out into the streets and onto the tongues of everyone who was willing to listen.

Yes, Shepard's brief ventures in babysitting most certainly should have been an inconsequential event, and yet just three days later Miranda found herself being woken up obscenely early to the sound of incessant chatter creeping up from the street below and through their bedroom window. As she turned towards the noise, she saw that Shepard was already up, and peering through the curtains nervously.

"Shepard," Miranda sat up, pausing as a yawn escaped, "what's going on?"

It was near impossible not to laugh when Shepard turned to face her, the woman looked dangerously close to deranged, "They're everywhere, Miranda. It's too late for us."

Miranda shook her head as she untangled herself from the sheets and made her way to the window, she peeked out to discover a sizable crowd had gathered just outside the door to the building. She found herself grateful for the fact that non apartment owners had to be buzzed in.

"Oh, well we knew this would happen eventually," she said with a sigh, "We'll just have to wait it out, I suppose. We can stay inside today, Shepard. They'll lose interest and wander off before nightfall."

Shepard gave her a rather pathetic look, "What if they don't?"

Laughing at her dramatics, Miranda placed a gentle hand on Shepard's back and guided her towards the kitchen, "Don't flatter yourself, you're hardly that interesting. Come on, I'm hungry."

* * *

Despite Miranda's soothing assertions, Shepard was on edge all afternoon. Confined to the house, they had to begin to search for ways to amuse themselves and pass the time. Space Hamster's tank had needed cleaning, as it was beginning to smell, so that was first on the list. For awhile after that, they lazed about and spoke for a time. When conversation faltered, they had lunch and tidied up the apartment. Afterwards, Miranda felt as though a shower was in order, as they had closed all of the windows to keep out the noise and things were getting a bit stuffy.

Miranda had always had an almost odd feeling of contentment while showering. Even at times in her past went she felt the most alone, the isolation it brought was welcome. She was able to think whatever she thought, feel whatever she felt, and bask in the warmth of the knowledge that for a short while she did not have to answer to a single person. Of course Shepard destroyed that peace, only being able to wait patiently on the bed for all of twenty seconds before she invaded the small space, "Hello."

"Can you seriously not be alone for ten minutes?" Miranda sighed, glaring at the smiling face that was poking through the curtain.

"Not when you're naked," Shepard responded in sing-song as she tried to scoot inside.

Miranda shot a hand out to bar her entrance, grimacing as the cascading water rolled down her arm and onto the bathroom floor just outside the curtain, "No. Stop. You are not coming in here with your clothes on, you'll make a mess."

Shepard brightened at her words, pulling off her shirt in one swift motion, "Okay."

"Wait, no," Miranda panicked, "that's not what I meant. I didn't mean-"

But Shepard was already inside, her lips immediately finding Miranda's. Miranda wrestled with her emotions as she tried to convince herself that she wanted the woman to leave, that she wanted to be alone. But oh, how she didn't.

"Wait," she started breathlessly, but Shepard had her against the wall, sneaking her legs in between Miranda's expertly.

"Shepard," She tried to stay focused as the woman's hands slid from her hips up to her breasts, "I can't," she fumbled as her feet struggled to get purchase on the slick ground, and winced when a stray elbow knocked into the temperature knob, "It's too cramped in here."

Eyes alight with obvious nefarious intent, Shepard turned off the water instantly. Miranda had but a second to shiver at the loss of warmth, before she was lifted by her bottom and found herself instinctively wrapping her legs around Shepard's waist. The woman carried her confidently into the next room, stealing quick kisses along the way.

Miranda's eyes widened as she knew where they were headed, "Wait no, stop. You're going to get the bed all-" Shepard dumped her unceremoniously onto the mattress, "wet."

Laughing, Shepard pacified her concerns quickly by joining Miranda at once, "It'll dry."

It wasn't until hours later that Miranda found herself reluctantly sliding out of Shepard's embrace, desiring a shower more now than she had ever had earlier. For her part, Shepard was very polite afterwards and gave Miranda some time alone for about five minutes before she mysteriously found herself standing in the bathroom once more, completely not of her own volition of course.

"Oh are you bloody serious?"

"It's the allure, mate. It's too strong, I can't fight it."

* * *

The next day, Miranda was surprised to look out in the morning and discover that their little crowd of admirers had not dissipated. In fact, she couldn't be sure, but it may have even grown. They were visited by George in the early afternoon, their quite portly, and immensely kind, landlord. Shepard apologized profusely for the inconvenience, but the man waved it off and asked if there was any way he could help with the situation. As there obviously was none, they parted ways quickly with the women promising to get it all sorted out as soon as possible.

Two more days passed, and both Miranda and Shepard were going a little stir crazy. Shepard, whose fear of the public had dissolved into annoyance at the personal intrusion, had taken to throwing paper airplanes down to the crowd. She had once approached the window with a large pot of water, but Miranda had been there to stop her just in time.

It hadn't taken long for them to realize the crowd was made up of journalists and news reporters, once they had been brave enough to really take a good look out the window. Miranda had found a live broadcast of their building on the tiny television in their living room, and they kept it on in the background, begrudgingly amused by the media's tenacity.

At one point, Shepard thrust her head out the window and began shaking her fist in the air frantically, "Don't you people have something better to do? There are starving Salarians on hot planets!"

"Commander Shepard, tell us, what happened on the Citadel the day of the Reaper's defeat?"

"What are your opinions on the treatment of surviving Cerberus soldiers?"

"Is it true that you alone are responsible for curing the genophage?"

"There were rumors you have been in a coma for the past month, can you publicly confirm this?"

"Bah!" Shepard waved them away and slammed the window shut, "ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous."

* * *

And so the time passed, agonizingly slowly. By the fifth evening, they had begun to run out of provisions, and it looked as though they would have to bite the bullet and leave the apartment. Shepard suggested they try take out first.

They watched excitedly as the delivery boy pulled up to the curb not half an hour later. He stepped out of his car, looked at the crowd, glanced up at the building, noticed Miranda and Shepard's heads sticking at the window, looked back at the crowd, shook his head, and drove off.

"What?" Shepard called out after him, "What happened to serving humanity with honor? Do your duty!"

Miranda leaned back inside and slid down the wall with a sigh, stomach growling loudly, "Please, Shepard, just talk to them. Maybe if you go down and give them something they'll leave us alone."

Shepard sat beside her, "They're like dogs. Feed em' once, and they'll keep coming back for more." Her stomach let out a low groan as well, "I can't believe this, they are literally starving us. Aren't there laws against this?"

"Probably," Miranda laughed, "though I'm sure law enforcement is a little more concerned with rebuilding the planet. Too bad we can't give them a little scare."

Suddenly, Shepard shot forward in excitement, "Miranda, you've given me a fantastic idea."

She grabbed Miranda's face in both hands and gave her a surprisingly energetic kiss, leaving the woman a bit confused, "That's great, can I eat it?"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Okay, finally a bit of serious stuff. Let me just tell you guys, last night I figured out how I wanted the story to end so I decided to write a quick note down before bed so I wouldn't forget anything. I ended up still typing at four in the morning and getting all excited and now I don't care about the middle as much anymoooooore and this sucks. *sigh* I always do this to myself.

* * *

Sure, Shepard may have claimed she had a fantastic idea, but in Miranda's book those usually didn't take hours to complete.

"Shepard," Miranda groaned from where she lay face down on the bed, "please just go down there. I'm dying."

With a laugh, Shepard plopped down beside her, "Uh oh, somebody is getting dramatic." She scooted closer.

"Touch me and I'll knock your head in."

"Woah now," Shepard put her hands up defensively, "alright then."

Miranda softened, "Sorry. I can get a bit testy when I'm hungry."

Shepard grinned wildly, "Wow that explains it. You must be absolutely _starving _all the time."

"I hate you."

* * *

"Ah-ha!" Shepard said from her position by the window not fifteen minutes later, "right on schedule."

The only response she received was the gurgle of Miranda's stomach. The low constant chatter from the streets below seemed to rise into an excited babble. Suddenly, Miranda heard a faint and familiar voice, "Outta my way! Get lost!"

Her head shot up, "Grunt? You called in Grunt?"

"Come here, look at this," Shepard's elbows were leaning on the windowsill as she placed her head in her hands with a dreamy sigh, "my baby, all grown up and threatening strangers on the street."

Miranda had to admit, it was more than a little amusing, watching their tormenters flee the scene. Grunt was standing in their doorway just minutes later, hunched over in the small space and bearing a small bag.

"Battlemaster," he said with a slight nod in way of greeting.

Shepard grinned, "I knew I could count on you, Grunt. Come in."

The young Krogan entered slowly, and Miranda noted with amusement that he appeared to be trying to be gentle in the small space. The bag held enough provisions to last them through the night, though Miranda found it hard to believe that the battle tank standing before her had gone shopping. It soon became apparent however that Eve, a Krogan she had never met but Shepard had spoken very highly of, had done all the arrangements and sent the young clan member along.

He stayed with them for a short while, clearly eager to leave but also wanting to show Shepard no disrespect. Only when the women had left to use the restroom did Miranda realize she had never been in a room alone with him before.

They sat as far away as they could from each other on the couch, awkwardly glancing at one another across the space.

"So, Grunt," Miranda began slowly, trying to make him feel more comfortable, "Are you, um," she hesitated as she tried to figure out what word to use, "settling in well with your clan?" She had helped him take down the thresher maw with Shepard, yes, but she wasn't a hundred percent sure how all of their politics worked.

"Yes," He responded simply.

"Yes, well," She cleared her throat, embarrassed, "that's, um, good then, I suppose."

He shot her a look then, and when Shepard returned a few moments later Miranda was still trying to work out if it had been a smile or a sneer.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, they were granted a bit more freedom. The mob had not given up entirely of course, but they were at least able to leave the building once more. At times, they would be followed about when they ventured outside, but a glare from Shepard warned them from getting to close.

The only real annoyance Shepard faced was that for whatever reason, most likely due to self-consciousness, Miranda was less inclined to show any sort of affection. She had never been one for PDA, sure, but they stood further apart on the sidewalk these days, and there were no more playful punches or teasing slaps. Shepard was tempted to mention the change, but she knew it would only embarrass the woman.

Their pictures showing up all over the television and every other online site soon became the least of their troubles however, as Miranda discovered she had been sent a rather unnerving message.

**Miranda,**

**I feel like I can't go anywhere without seeing you or Shepard these days, you two are really causing a stir down there on Earth. I hope you are both doing well.**

**I didn't want to bother you, but I wanted to give you a bit of a heads up. Yesterday, I was arrested and put on trial for my affiliation with Cerberus. I guess now that they have the Illusive Man's records, the Alliance is trying to put every war criminal they can get their hands on behind bars.**

**I don't want you to be nervous though, it was more a show than anything else. Because of the work I've done with Shepard, and the fact I was never a part of any of the more…extreme projects that were taking place, I was released in a matter of hours. We're in the same boat with that, so I know you'll be fine as well. I just wanted to make sure you were prepared for when they contacted you if they haven't already.**

**Take care and keep in touch,**

**Jacob**

Miranda hadn't wanted to show Shepard the message at first, but as always the woman got her way.

"So I guess this explains Hackett being all cryptic," She said after skimming through it quickly.

"Mmm," Miranda hummed in agreement. Jacob was right, she had never done much worse than he, nothing that was on record anyhow. There were a million and one things she wasn't proud of, things she would never tell Shepard she had done, but officially she had a relatively clean slate. The Illusive Man kept things looking as unsoiled as possible for the most part, and Miranda's image was made to model his own. She didn't have Jacob's service background, but she had her resignation along with Shepard's support. She would be fine.

But why did she feel so uneasy?

"What're you thinking?" Shepard questioned cautiously.

"It's nothing, this won't be a problem," Miranda said, trying to reassure herself as well as Shepard.

"Right," Shepard responded with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "just another minor annoyance."

* * *

Though the threat of the Alliance loomed ever present in the backs of their minds, Shepard and Miranda attempted to carry on as normal. The Normandy was carting surplus provisions from other planets to the places on Earth that had been hit the hardest, and happened to be docked not too far away. Joker took the opportunity to slip away and visit his old friends with EDI, who had made the jump back into her 'body' a few weeks earlier.

"Huh, it's small," was the first thing Joker said upon entering.

As he and Shepard reminisced and laughed the day away, Miranda found herself quite interested in EDI's new platform. They had not really been exposed to one another much. She was amused by how dedicated the AI seemed to it, how her lips would quirk into a smile, how her hands would gesture as she spoke. It was all very endearing.

Miranda would be the first one to admit she had had reservations when she initially heard of EDI being _unleashed _by Joker. The notion was gone now as she watched the AI, something she was glad for. Sitting there with her, listening to her speak, watching her move, she was so very alive. In fact, it almost seemed EDI was getting to be embarrassingly better at playing human than Miranda was.

When they left in the late afternoon, Shepard turned to Miranda, a thoughtful expression plastered on her face, "Say, EDI can't really travel too far like this, can she?"

"Hmm?" Miranda tilted her head back on the couch where she sat, staring up at where Shepard stood behind her.

"Since her, uh, parts and stuff are in the Normandy, she can't get too far away from it. And if the ship ever got destroyed again or something like that, she'd be gone too."

Miranda let her eyes drift closed, she had an inkling where this was going, "I suppose."

"Well," Shepard pressed carefully, "do you think there's a way to get all of her into her new body? Right now I kinda feel like she's chained to the ship."

"Shepard," Miranda sighed, and her eyes fluttered open as she lifted her head, "EDI is a massive system. That would be a lot of power on a tiny platform. I couldn't be sure until I checked it out for myself, but honestly it would probably just fry the whole thing."

"Oh," Shepard responded after a moment, sounding quite glum.

"I also think that if it were possible, EDI would have explored the option already, don't you?"

"Yeah," Shepard moved around to the front of the couch so she could take a seat beside her, "you're right, as usual."

A smile quirked at the edges of Miranda's lips, "Well you don't have to say it like it's a bad thing."

Shepard laughed, "I know, I know. Go be a super genius somewhere else."

After a moment, Miranda found she couldn't help herself, "What brought that on?"

Shrugging, Shepard looked away shyly, "Nothing, I was just thinking a bit about the Normandy. Future stuff."

"Future stuff?" She raised an eyebrow, her voice teasingly patronizing.

"Yeah," Shepard sighed, "you know, what comes next. Obviously I'd be set for life with the Alliance, but lately I just feel so…" She trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.

"So?" Miranda prompted, her interest now thoroughly peaked. It was true she wasn't overcome with love for the Alliance, but she had long ago resigned herself to the fact it would be a part of her life so long as Shepard was.

"Tired," Shepard finally admitted, albeit reluctantly. "I've just been, I don't know, thinking."

Miranda laughed, "I hope you haven't hurt yourself."

"Cute," Shepard shot her a glare. "But seriously, I just," She faltered for a moment, "imagine having the Normandy. We could go the places we want to go, fight the fights we make for ourselves, choose our own paths. We could help people, but only the ones we want to help, not the ones we were told to."

Shifting in her seat to turn towards the woman, Miranda found herself overwhelmed with affection, "Commander, are you proposing I become a mercenary with you?"

Shepard laughed, "Not just any mercenary, mercenaries with feelings." A wide grin spread across her face, "Mercenaries Who Care, that's the tagline."

"While it all sounds very romantic," Miranda teased gently, "the Normandy is an Alliance vessel. I don't believe even you could charm it away from their possession."

Waggling her eyebrows foolishly, Shepard gave her a warm smile, "The lady thinks I'm charming."

"Oh, get over yourself," Miranda gave her arm a shove.

Shepard sobered quickly, "Well, this may surprise you, but at times I can play by the rules. I was actually thinking of making a purchase."

"Shepard," Miranda hesitated, she was reluctant to squash Shepard's ambitions, "I'm afraid that that would be quite a purchase. The Normandy is one of the most dependable ships in the fleet; they won't part with her easily."

"Um," Shepard looked at Miranda with a patronizing expression, "let me show you something." She activated her omnitool, only taking a few moments before proudly showing the image to Mranda with a smug grin.

"Wow," Miranda genuinely lost her composure for a moment, "that's a lot of zeros."

"It is indeed."

"How did you manage that?"

"I've worked since I was eighteen. Didn't have any family to take time off with, so I was always working for the most part. Thing is, they supply you with room, food, and clothes while on duty. Nearly nonexistent expenditures with a near constant service record really adds up. Also, it would seem saving all sentient life doesn't hurt, I got a bit of a raise."

"I can see that. Well Shepard, if it's something you seriously want, I think you may just be able to pull it off."

* * *

It was days later, when Tali was in the process of dragging Garrus all the way back to Earth, eager to visit her friends, that Miranda had received another piece of news. She stood in the hallway between the bedroom and the living room, unsure of what she should be feeling. That twisting unease, the little flutter of anxiety that had been growing steadily from her first conversation with Hackett, was more prevalent now.

Something was _very _wrong.

Shepard stood before her, absorbing the information Miranda had just read aloud, "Wow, that's um, unexpected."

Some part of Miranda wanted to laugh, that was putting it quite mildly. There had been no will, the lawyers had said, and so the Lawson fortune and all associated facilities were to be transferred into Miranda's control. It was ridiculous, unbelievable. It must be some sort of ambush, the final efforts of a dead man.

"Shepard it doesn't make sense," Miranda spoke slowly as she tried to work out the situation, "My father was many things, but forgiving was not one of them. When I ran away he didn't send men out to catch me and drag me back home. I was to be erased. If I wasn't going to exist under his control than I was going to exist at all. This is wrong, it's some sort of trap."

Shepard's brow furrowed, "He's dead, what traps could he be possibly be making?"

"I don't know, Shepard," Miranda admitted finally, her voice breaking a bit, "all I know is my father would never have left me in his records. There's no way he would ever leave the possibility that I could take control. Oriana maybe, but even that is hard for me to believe. No, that wouldn't make sense at all."

"Well," Shepard sighed and approached the other woman slowly, "let's just be careful. It's not such an awful thing, is it?"

Miranda took a step back, "I don't want any part of it. I don't want any of that near me or my sister. I'll break up the facilities, destroy their research, and sell the buildings." Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, she was clearly growing more agitated, "Get rid of the money, I don't care how much it is. I don't want it."

Shepard approached her once more, a sad smile on her face, "Why don't you relax for a minute? I think that's a little extreme. The facilities I get but-"

"Well stuff the credits in your own pockets then if you're so enthralled," Miranda snapped suddenly, causing the woman to flinch. She regretted it right away, hating herself for taking it out on Shepard. It was just so, _unsettling_. Her poise was slipping away and panic quickly swept over her. Something was wrong, her father was trying to hurt her in some way once more, and the thought shook her to the very core as she desperately speculated if she would ever be truly free from his clawing grasp. Even in death his shadow remained, always lingering in the furthest reaches of her consciousness.

"Miranda," Shepard spoke softly, trailing a cautious hand along the woman's waist in what she prayed was a calming touch.

"I'm sorry," Miranda spoke quickly, clearly pained, holding back the bitter tears that were threatening to fall. She felt like a teenager again, irrational and petulant.

"Stop," Shepard soothed, "don't apologize. I just meant," She pulled the woman closer, bumping their foreheads gently; "there's a lot of people struggling out there. We don't need the money, no, but somebody else might. Take his bad and do some good, build a school, supply a shelter, set up a stray varren rescue."

Though she was calmed at the words, Miranda's eyes still glistened brightly. She didn't pull away from the embrace, but there was still a sort of restlessness about her, "Maybe. I just," her head shook, "I need some time to think. I think," she hesitated, "I think I'm going to take a walk."

"Oh," Shepard pulled back a little, combing Miranda's face with her eyes, trying to get a better understanding of just what was going on in her head, "okay, just don't forget, we're supposed t be meeting Tali soon, remember? They're touching down in a little over an hour."

"Right," Miranda paused, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, "Maybe you could pick them up without me…if that's okay…"

"Oh, sure. Yeah."

* * *

Tali and Garrus had been with Shepard for nearly three hours and still Miranda had not returned. Shepard tried to fight off the anxiousness that was building within herself. Miranda was intelligent and capable; she could handle whatever came her way. The words calmed Shepard less and less as time ticked steadily onward however.

Though she felt uneasy, Tali was a welcome distraction and Garrus was a reassuring presence. They spoke of the progress being made on Rannoch. Of the Geth systems that were being brought online slowly, of how the people were understanding one another, making peace with their bloody past.

Miranda had still not returned when Shepard's omnitool began blinking, attempting to receive a message from an unregistered caller. Shepard's stomach dropped, not many people were able to reach her, very few of whom would be using a secure line away from normal channels.

"Hey Tali," Shepard motioned her over to where she sat, "take a look at this."

The young Quarian took a seat beside her, looking on with curiosity, "Interesting."

Garrus tilted his head, "Any idea who it could be?"

"No," Shepard responded, mystified, "but I guess we're about to find out." She didn't hesitate and accepted the call instantly.

"Shepard?" a familiar voice filled the room.

"Hackett?"

"Are you alone?" The admiral questioned quickly, clearly attempting to rush the conversation.

"Garrus and Tali are with me, sir."

"Fine," He sighed, clearly troubled, "Things are a mess over here, Shepard, I can't have word of this call getting out. You must never mention it."

"Of course," Shepard responded instantly, flashing her companions a meaningful look.

"Listen, I'm not sure if Jacob Taylor informed you of his little brush with the law."

"He did."

"Good, then I don't have to explain to you the Alliances' intentions. They're coming down hard on this, Shepard, and I don't want you to be caught off guard. Miss Lawson is going to be taking a lot of heat."

Shepard's stomach dropped, "What?"

"I can't give you the details, but it's bad Shepard. From day one there has not been one piece of Intel that has crossed our desks that she hasn't been a part of. Everything we've collected from the base, Shepard, everything about Cerberus, she's all over it. I can't say much, but it's not good."

"I don't understand," Shepard stood up and began to pace about the room, "I can't say what she did before, but Miranda was with me. The whole time. She spent two years bringing me back. And then She was part of my team the entire time, right alongside Jacob."

Hackett seemed reluctant to correct her, "I know, Shepard. You've given me your statement before. It's just that none of the facts add up with your story."

"How could they not?" Shepard demanded, she had moved behind the couch, leaning her full weight on the headrest, "where does it deviate?"

"The question that would be easier to answer, is where it doesn't. Shepard, I want you to be prepared for the worst."

"But she's not Cerberus."

"Shepard-"

"She quit! We have proof!"

"Shepard! I believe you. I'm not the one you have to convince, and I tried to do what I could, but there is just nothing out there. I just, I wanted to be honest with you. I can't see this ending in your favor. Whoever did this to her had one hell of a grudge."

"Wait, I don't see the problem here," She said suddenly, growing more confident, "I'll just take the stand; my word will pull more than a little weight, surely."

Hackett sighed, "Shepard," he wavered, "I don't think it would be a good idea for you to even be present, let alone acting as witness."

"What?" Shepard gave a humorless laugh, "what are you talking about? I'm the best chance she's got."

"Listen," Hackett seemed almost embarrassed, "whatever your relationship with Miranda is it won't count for anything in this trial. Your support may actually hurt her."

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?"

The man hesitated, clearly uncomfortable, "We have an audio recording of Miranda openly admitting without provocation that she only began an intimate relationship with you as a means of manipulation."

"Oh god," Shepard pulled away from where she had been leaning on the back of the couch, "Jesus Christ, Miranda."

Tali took a step closer to her friend, "Shepard, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."

"What?" She looked confused for a moment, and then broke out into a laugh, "Oh no, that's not true, she would never do that."

Garrus nodded, "So you think it was another fabrication? I wouldn't put it past Cerberus to pull a stunt like that, and they certainly had the technology to make it feasible."

"No, no, that was her," She waved the Turian off dismissively, "She's a crazy robot woman devoid of human emotion, I'd be surprised if she _hadn't _said something like that. The problem is, every single member of that jury doesn't know her, they won't get that is just how she works."

Tali cocked her head to the side; sometimes she really didn't understand Shepard and Miranda at all.

"Exactly," Hackett chimed in, "and they won't take kindly to their hero being used and tricked. You show up, and I'm afraid that they might see that as further exploitation. It will look like she's using you to get herself out of trouble."

Shepard rubbed her forehead tiredly, "What a headache."

"Shepard," Hackett said sadly, "I'm doing everything I can to delay this. Use this time to find something, anything, that can help. Everything is against her right now, find her some sort of informational support. They wanted to blindside Miranda with this, make sure you use this edge properly, I don't know when but they will be coming to collect her soon. Stay calm, and make sure she doesn't resist."

"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate this."

"Remember, Shepard," Hackett added quickly before disconnecting, "you didn't hear it from me."

"Wow," Garrus placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder, "you okay?"

Shepard shook her head, bewildered, prompting Tali to give some encouraging words, "Hey, Miranda is smart. She can find a way out of this. As soon as she gets up there they'll realize the truth."

With a bitter laugh, Shepard pulled away from them, "Tali, I've done this before. You have to sit up on a pedestal while strangers who have no idea of the circumstances you found yourself in point accusatory fingers in your direction. This is Miranda we're talking about, and we're going to ask her to sit there and smile and be warm, likeable even." She shook her head, "Oh god, she's going to say one thing and they'll end up doubling her sentence."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Miranda," Liara scrolled through the data pad with a sigh, "There's nothing to find, and it doesn't help that the only two survivors are friends. There simply was no Project Lazarus, you were never there."

Miranda and Shepard sat on the edge of their bed, watching as the holographic image paced about the room in front of them. It had been the hardest thing in the world, approaching Miranda as soon as she returned home, having to be the one that struck yet another blow. It just _really _wasn't their day. Although she hadn't asked, Garrus and Tali had opted to get a hotel room for the night and give the two women time to sort out what was happening, and Liara had agreed to help as soon as Shepard sent word.

Shepard leaned forward with a loud scoff, "And I just popped up out of the ground, I suppose. Where was she then?"

"Well," Liara began, clearly uncomfortable, "heading illegal research on various planets in the Terminus systems. Conducting unfathomably cruel experiments on children. Recruiting, which seems like a nice way of saying abducting, young men and women from outer lying colonies. Most anything shady that was happening in the bowels of Cerberus, her name is attached to it."

"But that's ridiculous. There has to be a hole somewhere, something that doesn't add up."

Liara shook her head sadly, "The dates are airtight. Nothing overlaps, nothing contradicts, and whoever did this was an expert. There are shuttle ticket purchases, room rentals, payments collected, correspondences started, she was there, at every location."

Miranda remained silent, but Shepard refused to give up, "But what about after? She quit, she was with me on the Normandy, saving lives."

"Until she wasn't," Liara sighed. "The resignation was a ruse to keep your trust. When you discovered it, you kicked both her and Jacob off the ship. She returned to Sanctuary to aid with the research."

"That's bullshit, nobody would ever believe she would help her father."

"Shepard, officially, Miranda was a very loyal daughter. Henry Lawson grew her, primed her, and when she was old enough she went to work for his associate the Illusive Man with his blessing. A child prodigy, and the perfect daughter."

Shepard clenched her fists, well that explained the sudden inheritance, "Why? Why did he do this? Why couldn't he just leave us alone?"

"I'll keep looking, but-" Liara swallowed, "even with all my resources, I'm not sure I'll be able to help you."

"I understand," Miranda startled them both when she finally spoke, "thank you, Liara. For everything."

The Asari gave an apologetic look as she nodded, before her image dissolved.

"We're going to figure this out," Shepard soothed gently, covering Miranda's hand with her own. "I'm going to fix it."

Miranda offered a wry smile, but it disappeared as soon as she managed to muster it, "It's okay, Shepard."

She pulled away from the touch, using her arms to drag herself along the bed until she could comfortably lie down. A hurt look on her face, Shepard reluctantly followed suit. She lay down beside the woman on her side, scrutinizing her emotionless features with a careful eye.

"You're not giving up on me, right lady?" She questioned finally, not eager to hear the reply.

Miranda shrugged as she lay on her back, staring into the white of the ceiling. She felt defeated and betrayed, which hurt. That was stupid, it didn't make sense. She had done the betraying first, she had been the one who left. There was no reason for this to hurt, she had shown where her loyalties lie. The Illusive Man had been deranged in the end, a veritable monster; there was no reason to care about his opinion.

And yet, it was there in the back of her mind. The man who - although never warm - had protected her, given her food, shelter, money, praise, purpose, in the end had bore her no real affection. The feeling was stupid, but it was there. Miranda was aching.

"Miranda," Shepard moved closer, unsure in her actions as she was having trouble reading the woman's mood. There was a heaviness in the air about them, a weight that seemed to be pushing down on Miranda as she turned to face Shepard. The woman finally continued slowly, "I know it feels like everything is against you. We're going to work it out though. Don't just resign yourself, you have to keep fighting."

Miranda watched Shepard carefully as she spoke, trying to absorb what she was saying, begging it to work. She felt so drained, so utterly _exhausted. _She wanted to be able to share Shepard's drive, to muster that same strength, but the ability eluded her, just as it always had. It didn't matter that Shepard was pulling her closer no, wrapping her arms around her waist, winding their legs together seamlessly. It didn't matter because in the end, this moment would last forever only in her mind. Shepard would pass, as all things did, and they would be separated once more.

"Hey," Shepard exclaimed as Miranda suddenly buried her face into her neck, breathing deeply, "this is nothing."

Miranda nodded from her position, glad Shepard couldn't see her face as the gesture was more a reassurance for the other woman than real agreement. She felt Shepard press a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm going to be by your side every step of the way," she whispered softly, and she paused for a minute, not quite sure if she should continue saying what she had intended. Miranda was relaxing in her embrace, her breathing slow and steady, and Shepard admitted to herself with a grin that carrying on was sure to get her in trouble. Miranda would be uncomfortable, tense, and more than a little irritated, so of course, Shepard couldn't help herself.

"I love you."

Miranda's breathing paused, and for a moment an almost tangible silence fell between them. It was there, and then gone in a flash as Shepard's face was met with a pillow. And for the rest of the night they were able to be themselves again, all teasing and shoving and flushed cheeks.

"Don't be so gross."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I want to apologize for the poor pacing of this. When I updated the last chapter I was being lazy, it should have been two chapters and not one. No more 4 am updates, eh?

Anywho, tis a Shepard centric chapter since I haven't really done one for awhile. let's have a few last laughs.

* * *

Though Miranda was the one being threatened, she remained surprisingly level-headed from that night onwards. Shepard was the one racing about like a fox on fire. She let Shepard flounder around for a bit, yes, but it wasn't long before Miranda was blocking her futile attempts at information gathering. There was nothing to be found, and soon she would be taken away. Miranda was not going to waste the time they had left scooping cups of water over the side of a sinking ship.

They found some minor things had begun to change in their relationship as the clock counted down, the most notable of which being that it was up to Miranda to instigate acts of a less than innocent nature. They moved together more slowly now, the haste that comes from playfulness completely gone. Their actions were unhurried, deliberate and laced with double meaning. It wasn't the roaming hands and clashing teeth of the past, but a passionate exploration, measured and thorough, full of promise.

It seemed as though it happened in an instant, after Miranda was gone. It had crept up from nowhere, though they had been waiting for it for days. Shepard found herself lying alone in her bed the night before the trial, listening to the constant scurrying of Space Hamster digging through the shavings in his cage. She pondered about how easy it must be to be a rodent, and how very impossible it seemed that facing tomorrow felt more terrifying than any ancient monster she had taken down in the past.

* * *

If she had taken a moment to think about it, Shepard would have regretted not treating the woman who was blocking her entrance a bit more kindly. As it happened, however, Shepard found herself pushing past her brutishly, grunting, "Spectre," over her shoulder before the doors swung shut behind her, Oriana at her heels.

Miranda sat on an uncomfortable looking wooden bench against the far wall of the small room, looking quite out of place. A security guard took a step forward at their sudden intrusion, but Shepard waved him off, "Hi, Commander Shepard. Lord and savior, get lost."

He was taken aback, "but-"

"Fine," Shepard sighed, "just keep quiet."

Despite her nerves, Miranda managed a small smile in greeting. She was unbound and able to dress in her civilian wear as she had submitted quietly without resistance. Oriana tried to give her sister a reassuring look, but she was still too upset to put her all into it. Shepard and her had been bickering the whole ride over as to whether she would get to testify or not. Apparently child endangerment and kidnapping weren't the kind of stories Shepard thought the jury should hear.

"Hey there," Shepard asked, not sure how else to begin "How was the first night in the clink?"

Miranda grimaced at the memory, "dirty, if nothing else."

There was a short silence for a moment, and then Shepard kneeled to fuss over Miranda's shirt busily, brushing off imaginary dust, "Now, just remember that we have the truth on our side. The only thing you have to worry about is telling the story and being yourself."

Miranda nodded and opened her mouth to reply, but Shepard's eyes widened suddenly, "Except don't be _too_ much yourself. Be you, but…not…you…"

She trailed off awkwardly, looking to Oriana for assistance. "Just be warm and friendly. Look at everybody a lot, smile the whole time," the girl stated simply.

"Well, except when they bring up the horrendous experiments and abduction stuff," Shepard cut in hastily.

"Yeah," Oriana blanched, "don't smile at that."

"Make eye contact," Shepard added, "I heard liars can't look people in the eye."

Oriana nodded, "Yes, just not _scary _eye contact. Don't be intimidating."

"Oh, yes," Shepard faltered for a moment, taking in the intensity of Miranda's steely blue eye, "you know what? Don't worry about too much of the eye contact. Focus on sounding sincere."

"Don't be too formal," Oriana carried on, "make sure your tone has the right feeling. You want to sound sorry -"

"But not in a guilty way."

"Appalled that activities like that were going on -"

"And astonished that you would even be considered as a suspect, but never indignant."

"No, never indignant."

Shepard paused, realizing that may of the qualities mentioned fit 'professional Miranda' like a glove, "You know what?" She finally said, patting the woman on the shoulder warmly, "Just think of everything you usually do in front of strangers, and do the exact opposite."

Miranda sat on the little bench, feeling more nervous now than she had all morning. Oriana seemed to understand her sister's unease, and she leaned forward, reaching out for the woman's blouse.

"Here," She said simply as she unbuttoned the top two buttons quickly.

Shepard's mouth dropped open, "excuse me?" Her hands shot forward and she quickly thread them back up.

"No," Oriana hissed, reopening them, "here, just unbutton the top few. That's how you get sympathy from the male jurors, trust me."

"Woah, now," Shepard responded as she did them up once more, "No thank you, that's not necessary. And I don't even want to know where that came from."

"Stop, leave them like this. It might even win over a few of the ladies."

"No, we're not resorting to sex appeal."

"Everything is about sex appeal. Deal with it."

"I said no!"

"Can everyone please get their hands away from my breasts?"

* * *

Shepard put what she hoped was a comforting arm around Oriana's shoulders as they were asked to leave the room. She felt anxious, almost nauseous, and couldn't even imagine what must be going on through Miranda's mind. They paused outside the doors together, both looking a little lost.

"I just," Oriana began suddenly, "I hate this. I should be allowed to help."

Shepard snorted as she dropped her arm, "join the club."

They milled about in the hallway for a bit, aimlessly waiting for when they were allowed to go in and take a seat. There were no words passed between them, and they seemed reluctant to even let their eyes meet. Nameless officials passed by in a blur, faces irritably emotionless to the women who were so full of feeling.

It was when the fifteenth man in a crisp clean suit strolled nonchalantly by that Shepard finally snapped, "Fuck this, Oriana. You know what? Let's just make a run for it. I'll have her past Rannoch before they even notice we're gone."

"Shepard," Oriana warned, not quite sure if the woman was joking.

"What?" Shepard responded defensively, "these stiffs won't understand her. What right do these idiots have to judge her like this?" She crossed her arms in an effort to regain some composure, "I'm not just going to sit and watch them take her."

Oriana felt her resolve waver, if her sister was going back on the run, she had no doubt Shepard would be taking excellent care of her. And yet, she knew deep down that it would never work out, that Shepard was just freaking out, panicking. They had to have faith in Miranda, had to believe she could do this because nobody else in the wide universe did.

"Shepard," Oriana sighed, "you can't."

"Yes I can," Shepard whined, sounding a bit like a small child.

There was a soft chuckle then, and both women turned to find a familiar face, "having a bad day, Shepard?"

"Liara!" Shepard was taken aback, "what are you doing here?"

The Asari smiled, her wise eyes glinting dangerously, "I wouldn't know much about it, but I hear the Shadow Broker never gives up on a task. It may not be the solution you envisioned," She glanced over her shoulder, "but I was able to call in a few favors."

Shepard followed her gaze, her face softening at the sight, "guys…"

Tali waved from where she stood next to Garrus at the other side of the long hallway, and though she couldn't see the face hidden beneath the mask, Shepard knew there was a wide grin plastered there. Garrus was chatting animatedly with Jacob who sat on a bench next to a now visibly pregnant Brynn. She was glancing wearily between Samara, who seemed to be meditating on the floor beside her, and Jack, who seemed to be trying to annoy the shit out of Ashley. The newly made Spectre had her arms crossed as she appeared to be having trouble sorting out which was worse, the convict's vulgar jibes coming in from the left, or Vega's cringe-inducing flirting coming in from the right. Joker was watching his old friend, clearly amused at her plight, while EDI observed the scene silently from his side. Grunt was standing awkwardly beside them, clearly feeling more than a little out of place in the formal atmosphere.

"Come on," Liara said gently, leading them towards the motley group.

"Shepard," Jacob smiled up at her in greeting, "we heard you got yourself into a bit of a bind here."

Ashley took a step forward, "we've got your back, skipper."

"Well I was promised payment," Jack grumbled quickly, shooting a meaningful glare at Liara who merely rolled her eyes, no way was she going to let anyone think she was helping out of the goodness of her heart.

If her old crew hadn't known any better, if they weren't accustomed to Shepard's badassery, they might have thought perhaps there was a single joyful tear collecting in the corner of her eye. Of course, that would have been a complete inaccuracy on their part.

* * *

"We've worked together for many years. Miranda is driven, focused, and sometimes that makes her a hard woman to get along with, but she's not the kind of person who could do the things you're accusing her of."

"I didn't know her for very long, but Shepard and I had a lot of run ins with Cerberus when we were taking down Saren. She wouldn't put her trust in one of their officers easily."

"We might not be meeting for drinks at the bar anytime soon, but when Shepard put me on a squad that Miranda was in charge of, I never had any reservations."

"Come on, look at Lola over there. Who is gonna betray that face?"

"Miranda was a hardened woman, a brilliant leader, and an excellent soldier. The quality I most attributed her with however was her unwavering loyalty; one that undoubtedly lies with Shepard."

"Hell, we were never close, but I guess we'd all be dead without her."

"I'm not going to lie and say she wasn't intimidating at first, but now I'm happy - and proud - to call Miranda a friend."

"She is valued by my battlemaster, and so is worthy of respect."

"She only threatened to terminate the mission by activating the Normandy's self destruct feature once….that was a joke."

"I've seen the worst parts of Cerberus; I know what shit can happen when their people go bad. This princess doesn't have the stomach for it."

"When you know the facts, when you have the real story, there's only one person she was ever one hundred percent devoted to in her past, her sister - her family. But that changed, that family has grown, and we're sitting here now, returning that devotion."

* * *

It was after all the hugging, after the laughter and tears and grand declarations of gratitude, that Shepard found herself hovering over a delightfully naked Miranda. She watched as the woman shifted impatiently below her, all traces of the earlier embarrassment long gone. Only Miranda would have been embarrassed by the grand displays of affection her old comrades had shown, only she would be so adorably overcome by the emotions building inside that she was physically incapable of expressing them aloud.

Shepard smiled as she thought back. Of course she was delighted by her friends' understanding, of the way they had slowly begun to trust Miranda, respect her, rely on her, and eventually become her saving grace in the darkest hour. And yet, at the moment, Shepard's main focus was on the fact that she was there, in _their _bed, the only being in the known universe allowed to take this position. Miranda was free now, the shackles of the past were crumbling around them, and for once Shepard felt unafraid by their relationship.

There was nothing else now, nobody left to hide from. The Illusive Man, Henry Lawson, Kai Leng – all dead and gone. Forgotten nightmares entangled in a desperate history. Only the two of them had survived, there, in that moment, completely and utterly belonging to each other. Shepard shifted a bit, teasing the woman, smiling at the low growl of frustration she earned almost immediately.

She felt liberated, unburdened. Miranda had run from those people, had deserted each and every one, and yet with Shepard she remained. It was enough to make a soldier smug, laying a top the perfect woman, but it was more than that. Anyone who saw her could say Miranda was gorgeous; they could compliment her biotic ability or praise her intelligence. But Shepard, she was truly privileged. She was able to learn the favorite color schemes, preferred foods, choice novels. She was honored with theories she would never quite fully understand, privy to the hushed musings that would never be admitted in confidence. Shepard shifted once more, triumphant in receiving this gift.

"So," She spoke slowly, allowing her hands to wander aimlessly about the creamy skin beneath herself, "a free woman. What comes next for you, Miss Lawson?"

Miranda seemed almost pained as she responded through gritted teeth, "I'm going to beat the life out of you if you don't stop teasing."

Shepard clucked her tongue disapprovingly, "So much for reforming and finding solace in the lord. Once a convict always a convict, I see." She let her fingers dip low for just a moment, long enough to get the woman's hopes up, and then pulled them away once more.

"Jane," Miranda attempted to mask the pleading in her voice with irritation.

"Uh oh," Shepard chuckled, "Jane? I must be in a heck of a lot of trouble."

Even in the dark, Shepard could feel the chill of the glare being directed at her. She reveled in the annoyance, absolutely delighted. Anyone else would be a smear on the wall, but somehow, unbelievably, she was not. Shepard knew there would be no declarations of undying love from Miranda, no clichéd speeches. There would be the little things though - the Miranda things - touches and looks, eye rolls and laughter. No, Shepard mused as she finally pressed her lips to the woman's skin, blazing a trail lower and lower, Miranda would likely refuse to utter the word love until the very minute one of them was at death's door.

As she set about her work, Miranda's fingers tugging at fistfuls of her hair in her uncontrolled ecstasy, Shepard found that it didn't bother her one bit.

* * *

A/N: One more chapter coming up. It's about friiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiendship (I love friendship things). I've only written a little so far, but I'm having a good time with it. Hopefully we all walk away satisfied in the end :)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: More creative liberties being taken around these parts. Just flow with it, my friends, and have a good time. :D (by which I mean I pulled a bunch of crap out of my ass because why not it's fanfiction. Sorry. Please don't yell at me.)

*cough* awkward silence *cough*

* * *

The peace of the early evening was broken by the halfhearted bickering of the two women traveling along the sidewalk. The residents of the surrounding houses in the neighborhood paid no mind to the sound whenever they heard it; it was a common occurrence of late. Though the occasional news reporter could be a nuisance, the families on the street never thought ill of Shepard and Miranda, and seemed proud to live in peace beside them. Nearly a year and a half had passed since the Reapers had been destroyed, but the gratitude they felt for their savor had not faded from their minds, and when the two women had moved into the big empty house at the end of the street they had offered nothing but their sincerest welcome.

"I'm telling you," Shepard reiterated as she opened the door and stepped inside their home with Miranda hot on her heels, "it was the one from that stupid romantic comedy Tali made me watch. You know, with the Elcor and the Hanar body swapping thing."

Miranda stepped towards the hanger by the door, shrugging off her jacket to rest it on a free hook, "No, Shepard. That was a completely different actress. You're thinking of Loral Chase."

Shepard shook her head as she moved through the open archway into the kitchen, "No, I'm talking about the blonde one. You know, she's always like a secretary in every action movie ever."

Following close behind the other woman, Miranda groaned, "Yes. Loral Chase."

"No," Shepard remained adamant as she opened the refrigerator and began to rummage around inside, "her name is like some kind of fruit thing." She paused in her search, rubbing at her forehead in frustration, "oooh, what was it now. Apple something. No, Pear. Fruit. Thing. Pineapple lady."

Miranda rolled her eyes as she hopped up onto one of the three stools that lined a side of the counter island in the middle of the room, "Oh yes, how could I forget the stirring performance of Pineapple Lady? You're thinking of Abigail Mangano."

"Yes!" Shepard turned around to face Miranda excitedly, "Mango lady!"

"That's still not who you're thinking of, Shepard. She was in the one we saw a few weeks ago, you know, with the Volus drug ring. The one tonight was Loral Chase."

Shepard turned back towards the refrigerator, irritated, "I promise you, it's not her. It's the girl from that buddy cop movie," she spun to face Miranda again, holding a covered bowl of pasta in her hands, "you want this?"

Miranda seemed to contemplate it for a moment, and then she shook her head, "I had some for lunch while you were out. That was Loral too, by the way."

Shepard shrugged and replaced the dish, "I don't think so." She began to rummage again, trying a new plate, "How about some of this, hmm?"

The woman hesitated, causing Shepard to roll her eyes. Miranda always knew how to make leftover night a chore.

"Okay, chicken it is," she said, not waiting for an answer.

Miranda nodded absently, clearly distracted with other thoughts, and so while Shepard prepared a couple of plates she tried to recollect the woman's attention, "I'm looking it up by the way. I'm telling you, for once you're wrong."

"However will we survive?" Miranda's sarcastic response was more distant than usual as she picked inattentively at a fingernail.

Shepard sighed as she knew all too well where Miranda's head was. The entire night she had been trying to keep the woman distracted, but it appeared as though her efforts were proving fruitless. While their food was heating up, Shepard moved to lean on the counter in front of Miranda, making quite a show of searching for the movie they had just returned from on her omnitool.

"Let's see," she sighed out as she glanced over the information, "Hank Tucker….Sarah Bloom…Joe Sch-" Her face screwed up in annoyance, "Joe some last name I can't pronounce…Loral-" She stopped abruptly.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on her face. The timer sounded off, indicated their meal was ready, saving Shepard from having to respond. They sat side by side on the stools for quite some time, silently eating their fill. It wasn't until Miranda couldn't stand the waiting anymore that she finally broke the peace.

"So," she began slowly, putting all of her effort into sounding unperturbed about the whole affair, "no word back from Liara I take it?"

Shepard saw through the ruse in an instant, "You know I would tell you as soon as I heard anything."

Embarrassed, Miranda kept her eyes strictly glued to her plate as she nodded, "I'm sorry. I know."

"It's not something you have to apologize about," Shepard assured her. "I just want this to be a good thing, and it feels so out of my control. If you're going to be stressed out about it until the time comes and then it goes poorly…I just couldn't stand it."

Miranda smiled, affection warming her body. She leaned to the side until her head rested on Shepard's shoulder, "Sounds like we both need to relax."

Shepard laughed and then seemed to hesitate. Miranda felt her go still as she seemed to be contemplating continuing the conversation, "Miranda?"

"Yes?" She responded warmly, not wanting to deter the woman from speaking freely.

"I'm sorry if this sounds stupid, and you know I'm no good with all that science stuff," Shepard faltered for a moment, "but I don't get how there's just one…_person_." She shifted uncomfortably as soon as the words had left her mouth.

Miranda lifted her head and smiled bitterly, she hated herself in times like these. After all of this time together, Shepard still feared broaching some topics. It was disappointing, as there was not a single subject Miranda was afraid to discuss. Shepard was open with her about everything, and if her past demons were to arise, the conversation that would occur would be a healing one. Miranda's past however seemed to be one Shepard was reluctant to pry through. Though Miranda knew that that was most likely due to her guarded attitude when dealing with most people, she was saddened by the fact that Shepard didn't quite understand that she was the exception to the rule.

"It's not a big deal, Shepard; you're allowed to ask questions."

Shepard didn't answer, though she looked away with a small sniff, clearly self-conscious.

With a sigh, Miranda continued quickly, "Everything was manipulated, yes. Twisted into my father's design and tweaked into what he considered perfection. But there needed to be a start, Shepard. You can't create something from nothing. There has to be the basics, an egg and well…" she trailed off.

Shepard's face paled, thinking of Henry Lawson's sperm was not her favorite way to spend dinnertime. Luckily, Miranda continued, "Leastways that is how it was at the time, but that was over thirty five years ago now. I don't really keep up on the world of manipulating baby genes."

Shepard giggled.

"You're picturing babies in jeans, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

* * *

Not two days later Shepard found herself opening the door of a rented car, and though she seemed reluctant, Miranda eventually stepped out. They crossed the street slowly, both none too eager to reach the ramshackle little house at the end of the stone pathway before them. Glaring up at the sun as they moved, Shepard tried to ignore the little beads of sweat rolling down her back. It was not two weeks until Christmas; the heat here was just unnatural. She glanced at Miranda beside her. If this was the norm for Australia she had a bit more insight into why the woman was so crazy.

They finally reached the wooden steps leading up to the front porch, and Shepard turned to Miranda expectantly. She was surprised to find her face blank, almost as if she were spacing out. When a few seconds passed and she didn't seem liable to move anytime soon Shepard awkwardly extended her arm and rapped lightly on the door. A few moments passed but eventually they could hear movement from inside the modest building and Shepard felt Miranda stiffen beside her. In seconds they were faced with a kindly looking brunette. She was tall and slim, almost frail looking. She had a somewhat disheveled appearance, and there was a mischievous looking spark in her eye that hinted at a relaxed attitude.

"Hello, can I help you?"

There was an incredibly uncomfortable silence then, as Shepard soon realized Miranda wasn't going to say a word.

"Sorry to intrude," she finally said, embarrassed. She sure wished that if Miranda had expected her to instigate the conversation that she would have told her _before _they arrived. "Are you Mrs. Martin?"

"Yes, that's me," The woman responded with a warm smile.

"I'm-"

She laughed, "I know who you are, Commander Shepard. I owe you my life." The words were said genuinely, but not with the hint of hero worship that they had been getting used to. The woman was stating a fact, and for that Shepard took to her instantly.

"And this is Miranda-"

"Walker," Miranda cut in suddenly, extending her arm for a very professional handshake, "I worked with Henry Lawson quite closely."

Shepard shot her an exasperated look, one that Miranda pointedly ignored.

"Henry Lawson?" The woman responded as she accepted the gesture, clearly intrigued. "Now there's a name I haven't heard in many years."

* * *

"I see," Jennifer Martin put her cup of tea down on the table gently, a sadness creeping into her voice. "I'm sorry to hear that. I must admit, Henry always struck me as the type to live quite the long life so this is a bit of a shock."

Miranda had yet to say a word since she had introduced herself. She was much too focused on studying the woman from across the table, looking for any subtle quirks or traits they may share. They certainly didn't look all that similar, though that might have been because of the woman's age clearly showing on her features. She was not a wealthy woman, judging by her small house and haggard appearance, and the wrinkles on her face told of a life full of many hardships.

"I may not have been a fan of the man he became, but I will say he was the first great love of my life." Her eyes shown with fondness for days long gone by, "oh, how that boy used to talk. We were going to get married; he was going to make me a family all of my own."

Shepard took a sip from her own drink, "make?"

The woman laughed, "Ah yes, I wasn't the biggest fan of my childhood, you see. My mother was a rotten woman, and I was quite determined to give someone else the life I thought I had deserved. It wasn't long after I met Henry that we realized it wouldn't be possible." She sighed wistfully, "Something in me was broken, I was incapable of carrying a child."

Miranda stiffened, at least one trait they shared then.

"Of course, that didn't stop Henry. He was just starting to work with his father in those days; they were grooming him to take over the family business. Said that he was going to be taking over their little empire soon, that he was going to make me the family I had always dreamed of. He'd be the perfect husband. I'd be the perfect wife. Together we'd raise the perfect children." She chuckled, though there was little real humor in it, "Ah but he was changing. I never liked his father much, and as time went on I was beginning to see a bit too much of him in Henry."

She sighed sadly, "I guess, over time, I was starting to feel like less of a partner, and more of an ideal. There was a child created. It was beautiful, but so," She shuddered at the memory, "_unnatural_. I only saw her once before she was taken from my arms. I never," She swallowed hard, "I never was told what happened. Something had gone wrong, she hadn't been quite _right._"

Miranda watched carefully as the woman continued, her emotionless features starting to get Shepard more than a little nervous, "I left then. On the way out the door, Henry…he hit me. I saw a bit of the old him afterwards, just for a second. My Henry, he was so tired in there, so sorry." Her voiced wavered a bit, "Well, it was over with then."

She glanced around her modest home, "It wasn't the easiest transition to make, this is no mansion on the harbor," She offered a small smile, "but I had my conscious, I was able to sleep at night. Then I met Peter, we have a good life here. I never knew if he kept his work going after that, I had begged him to stop, but, well," Here eyes flickered up to glance at Miranda quickly before they fell to the ground, "I guess I'll never know for sure." Her voice broke at the end, giving insight into her sorrow, and she stood up quickly, "I'm sorry, I think I may need a glass of water. If you'll excuse me."

Shepard waited until she had disappeared into the kitchen before turning towards Miranda and whispering frantically, "Oh come on, Miranda. She's fantastic. You have to say something."

Miranda shook her head anxiously, and Shepard was a bit surprised to see she was clearly holding back tears, "I can't, Shepard. I can't-" Her voice cracked, "Look."

Shepard followed her gaze to find Miranda was focused on the many pictures that lined the walls of the room. There were three beautiful, if not clearly adopted, children. Family vacations, the first day of school, cookouts, grandchildren. Jenifer Martin had a whole life hung up in the house; there was no room for Miranda there.

"Miranda-"

"Please, don't say anything," the woman begged. "Let's just tell her what we came here for and then let's just go home. Please, just take me home."

"Okay. It's okay," Shepard put a comforting hand over Miranda's leg as Jenifer returned.

"Is everything okay?" She questioned, curiously.

Shepard smiled, "Of course. I uh, I'm sorry, I suppose you're wondering why we are even here."

The woman smirked, "I thought you were just paying a few random strangers visits, hoping to hear a couple of back stories."

Laughing, Shepard answered, "Actually, you'd be surprised. But, um," she sobered quickly as she gave Miranda a sideways glance, not really sure how to continue. "It seems Mr. Lawson hadn't been expecting to, uh, depart so soon. There was no will, and so after a few months, everything was forwarded to his daughter. It was her wish that all of his personal accounts be transferred to yours."

The woman shook her head frantically, "Oh, no. I couldn't. I have no right to it. That would be entirely inappropriate."

"Please," Miranda interrupted suddenly, "I-"she cleared her throat, "she has no use for it, it was her only request."

The two woman stared at each other, each not giving the other even an inkling of their true thoughts, "I - okay, if that's what she wants."

* * *

"It was an honor having you in my home, Commander. My husband is going to be quite upset when he returns from work."

Shepard laughed from where she stood in the doorway by Miranda's side, who seemed anxious to escape the house, "The pleasure was mine, Mrs. Martin. Take care of yourself."

The woman grinned, "Well, I must say that will be quite a bit easier now."

Nodding, Shepard and Miranda turned to head down the porch steps, but were quickly halted.

"Miranda," Jenifer poured out all the warmth she could in the name, knowing this was likely the last chance she would get to use it, "thank you for coming."

Shepard felt Miranda stiffen beside her, her face tightened and she seemed unable to turn around, "Of course."

At her lead, Shepard followed her down the walkway to where the car had been parked. Jenifer Martin watched from the window as Commander Shepard gingerly grasped her daughter's hand, and smiled because no matter what evil Henry had used her for, she had still been part of creating something beautiful.

* * *

Miranda had been calm on the journey home. She seemed tired, yes, quiet even, and calm. It wasn't until they were safely within the house that she had let her feelings show. Shepard sat on the couch in their living room, holding Miranda tightly against her chest as she poured her frustrations out.

It wasn't loud sobbing, but quiet, gentle shakes. Her hands wrapped around Shepard's waist, squeezing her back, leaving tiny indentations from her fingernails. Every once in awhile Shepard could hear a faint sniff as even then Miranda had tried to hold back.

Shepard rocked them slowly, gently stroking Miranda's hair, "I know. I know it's not fair. She should have been yours," Miranda took a deep, ragged breath as Shepard kissed the top of her head.

"She should have belonged to you."

* * *

**Message Received: Liara T'Soni **  
**5:07 PM**

Keep me posted when you get a chance, Shepard.

**Message Sent: Jane Shepard**  
** 5:10 PM**

We're actually back already. Everything went smoothly. Miranda was actually going to send you a thank you soon, but she might wait until morning. I don't think she's feeling up to it at the moment.

**Message Received: Liara T'Soni **  
**5:12 PM**

Not what you hoped?

**Message Sent: Jane Shepard **  
**5:13 PM**

No, too good I think.

**Message Received: Liara T'Soni **  
**5:18 PM**

I see. Well, it sounds like she could use a pick me up. I suppose I'll be seeing you soon, Shepard.

**Message Sent: Jane Shepard **  
**5:19 PM**

What?

* * *

Shepard was still frowning at the cryptic message when Miranda reentered the living room, plopping down on the couch beside her in an unusual show of exhaustion. Just a few minutes earlier she had left to change into her sleeping attire, happy that she didn't have to care about keeping up appearances in front of Shepard. She watched on with interest as Shepard fiddled with the device.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Shepard mumbled, clearly annoyed. "Liara just stopped responding."

Miranda shrugged, "she's very busy, let her be."

With a sigh, Shepard relented and dropped her arm into her lap. Hating to see the red rings around Miranda's eyes, Shepard attempted conversation. She was able to distract them both for a time, over an hour at least, and she was happy to see that the woman was getting back to her old self a bit as time wore on. At one point, Miranda scooted to the side to face Shepard, one leg folded beneath her, the other dangling off the edge of the cushion, "Thank you for being so good today."

"What?" Shepard grinned foolishly. "Did you think I was going to embarrass you or something?"

Miranda laughed, lifting Shepard's spirits considerably in the process, "I meant for taking the initiative when I needed it, but yes, that applies too I suppose. I think this is the first time that _I _came off looking the fool." The words were harsh but Miranda's tone was light and playful.

"Was that your incredibly offensive way of saying you appreciate me?" Shepard questioned, eyebrows all but dancing.

Miranda gave her a gentle swat to the arm, "don't let your ego grow too large. I might have to get rid of you and that would be unfortunate."

Shepard grinned, tongue poking teasingly from between her teeth, "Miss Lawson, are you insinuating that you having feelings for me?"

Rolling her eyes, Miranda ignored the question. "Okay," she was really starting to feel the heavy weight of the day on her now, "I think I'm going to just lay down for the rest of the night."

Shepard narrowed her eyes, "At least eat first."

"I'm not hungry," Miranda assured her, even as her stomach growled in protest.

Laughing, Shepard stood up, "come on, we can just pull something together really fast. Please?"

Miranda's heavy sigh announced her defeat and Shepard started moving towards the kitchen, clearly triumphant as the other woman started to rise. They both stilled however when there was a loud knock at the front door, each tensing at the sound. They hadn't invited anyone. Cautiously Shepard moved towards the big window in the front room, pulling back the curtain to peer out into the dark yard.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Shepard realized how ridiculously mistrustful Miranda and she could be, but understandably the paranoia of the past had yet to ebb. She trusted that they would get over it in time, but for now it felt comfortable to be suspicious of every stranger. That didn't mean she hadn't felt tremendously apologetic about the incident with the mailman. Miranda had forbade her from carrying her pistol on her person in the house after that, though she did inform Shepard about the modest stash of weaponry one could find if they opened up the top of the coffee table.

"Huh," Shepard relaxed and let the curtain fall back into place, "It's Garrus and Tali."

Confused, Miranda turned to face the front door, hands dangling over the backrest as she knelt on the cushions, "On a Thursday night?"

With a shrug, Shepard moved to greet them, "Apparently."

She opened the door to find them staring up at her nervously, Garrus looking rather embarrassed, "I told you we shouldn't have left so early. I hate being the first one."

Tali appeared less bothered by the whole affair. "This is for you," she shoved the covered bowl that Shepard hadn't yet noticed into the woman's arms and pushed by her busily. "Hello, Miranda!"

"Um…hi?"

"Garrus," Shepard turned towards her friend and whispered conspiratorially, "you know I love having you guys but now isn't really a good time."

He shook his head mournfully, resting a steady hand on her shoulder, "That's what I said, Shepard. That's what I said."

"Oh Garrus, thank God you're here," a familiar voice came from the walkway leading up to the front stairs. Shepard's mouth fell open as Jacob stepped forward with his son joyfully riding on his shoulders, Brynn trailing closely behind, "I hate being the first one."

"Tell me about it," He grumbled in response.

Brynn stepped forward holding a wide covered serving dish out, "here you….oh." She glanced down at the bowl in Shepard's hands, "Shall I just follow you into the kitchen then?"

Taken aback, Shepard turned towards Miranda, looking for help. The woman was being distracted by Tali however, who seemed to be going on about something rather excitedly despite Miranda's obvious confusion. Shepard wasn't sure of the topic, but she did catch a few tidbits of the one sided conversation.

"…which you were so right about by the way, I should not have used that as a component at all. I mean, wow, did that backfire. Literally."

Brynn cleared her throat, regaining Shepard's attention, "Um, uh. Right through that archway over there," she shifted the dish from Tali into one hand to point with the other.

Nodding, the couple stepped inside, followed closely by Garrus.

"Wait!" Shepard hissed after him frantically, "what's-"

A low long whistle from outside cut her off, "Wow, this is much better. Big, I like it."

Shepard turned back to see Joker and EDI standing on the steps, Joker bundled up in a big fluffy jacket to fend off the cold. Despite herself, Shepard couldn't help but smile at the AI who had a long red scarf draped around her neck although she was unable to feel the chill in the air. Sometimes EDI was too endearing for her own good.

"Jeff made this," she said, looking at the plate she embraced fondly. "I put on the frosting."

Shepard grinned, "well I'm sure that's the best part then." Then she remembered herself, "Wait, hold on. What-"

But they were roughly pushed aside, "Out of my way it's fucking freezing." Jack barreled her way through the door and dumped a container of store bought cookies onto the bowl that Shepard already held without so much as a backwards glance. "Where's Grunt? He's the only one of you losers worth talking to."

"We'll just put this on the counter then," Joker said while he limped off into the kitchen. EDI followed without a word.

Shepard made to follow but the back of her legs were hit with what felt like a pillowcase full of bricks…three times.

"No! You can't get me!"

"I'll tackle ya!"

"Me first!"

Catching herself on the wall before she was knocked to the ground, Shepard turned to look out the door and saw Grunt approaching cheerily with Wrex and Bakara in tow. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized just who the three little offending terrors were.

"Ohnononono."

"Shepard!"

"Pick me up!"

"Throw me!"

"Nononononono."

But it was too late. The three little Krogan toddlers were already scaling her body. The two little males had a hold of one leg each, while the female had swiftly made the triumphant ascent to her shoulders. Sometimes it was hard to hate them, what with their obvious affection toward her, but most times it was easy. Especially when they were head butting your more private areas. She held the stack of dishes in her hands far out in front of her, trying hard not to drop the objects as her balance was threatened.

"Battlemaster," Grunt greeted with a nod as he moved into the house.

"Help," She groaned as one of the little males shimmed up her torso.

"Woah there, little one," Bakara said as she finally reached her children. She plucked little Mordin off of the top of Shepard's head, much to the relief of the woman's neck. The only semblance of an apology Wrex offered as he passed by was his usual raspy laugh.

As the two older Krogan passed into the living room, the toddlers attached to her feet soon lost interest with Shepard and charged on through to where there were new victims to crash into. Panting Shepard leaned against the wall next to the door and slid down until she was seated on the now damp rug. She considered the wet footprints for a moment curiously, before looking out the open door. She hadn't noticed it was snowing.

Suddenly, three familiar figures were travelling towards her, "Shepard, you should close this door. You're letting the cold air in."

"Why are you on the floor?"

"I didn't know it was _that_ kind of party."

Shepard's gaze travelled from Chakwas to Samantha to Kelly in turn, "Good evening ladies. Would you be so kind as to inform me on _why _you are here?"

"Huh?" Kelly looked confused as she stepped over Shepard's legs and into the house.

Traynor followed suit, "I just need to throw this dish in the oven if you don't mind. It will dry out if we put it in the microwave."

Chakwas shook her head disapprovingly, "Honestly, you'll catch a cold sitting there like that."

Shepard merely watched silently as they left, she was beyond resisting at this point. Shakily, she got to her feet and glanced down the hall into the living room. Through the archway she could see Miranda surrounded by their _guests, _looking incredibly bewildered as they were seemingly chatting with her about the mundane trivialities of life. Her eyes wandered a bit as Jacob began to speak to her about something or other, and she realized that Shepard's gaze was on her. She tossed her old commander a stern glare, and Shepard gave her a bewildered look in return. No way had she planned this.

"Shepard, I am impressed. It would appear as though you have high status in your culture," Samara sounded together and elegant, as usual, when she crossed the threshold. "Thank you for having me."

"I'm not…I'm not having you…." Shepard responded ineffectively to her retreating form.

"Hey, Shepard," Oriana's cheerful voice came from behind her. Shepard spun around quickly to find the girl and a rather embarrassed looking young man standing beside her, "I hope you don't mind that I brought Danner as my plus one." She held out a large bowl towards Shepard's already overburdened arms.

"You!" Shepard glared accusingly at the newest intruders, "what do you think you are doing?"

Oriana raised an eyebrow while looking from the bowl in her hands to Shepard's angry features, "…giving you a salad?"

"You can't-" Shepard spluttered, her face red, "you can't just be showing up at people's houses with huge ass bowls of salad!"

Oriana sighed and dropped it carelessly atop Jack's cookie box before grabbing Danner's hand and pulling him inside, "just ignore her. She's always this weird."

"Miranda!" Shepard cried out suddenly, her confusion threatening to overwhelm her just as quickly as the teetering pile of food. It took just about a minute, but soon Miranda had disengaged herself from conversation and managed to slide through the growing crowd to Shepard's side.

"What the hell is going on?" She hissed.

Shepard's eyes were wide as she struggled with her burden, "I don't know. They're everywhere, Miranda. They just keep coming."

An almost pitiful expression crossed Miranda's features as she looked down at the floor. "My carpet…" she lamented quietly before looking back up at Shepard with sympathy, "here, let me take this for you. I'll go put it on the counter."

Shepard mumbled a grateful thank you as she shifted the items into Miranda's hands. The woman turned to move into the other room gracefully, and Shepard was hardly surprised to hear her exclaim "what the-where is this all coming from?!" as she ran into the various other 'gifts' their friends had brought.

"Ah, and here I thought I was on time," Liara exclaimed sadly as she moved to stand beside Shepard and looked on into the room already near bursting with her friends.

"You," Shepard's head turned comically slowly as she glared at the Asari standing next to her, "this is all your doing!" Liara merely smiled in response as Shepard continued, "This is not okay, Liara. Miranda does not need this right now. She won't be pleased with-"

"Exactly," Liara cut in as Feron passed through the doorway with a small bundle in his arms, "which is why I brought them."

Shepard sighed in defeat as the tiny blue baby in the Drell's arms looked up at her happily, her wise eyes seeming to smile all on their own. The little baby Benezia could worm her way into the coldest of hearts with her dimpled smile and infectious laughter, and she was firmly lodged in Miranda's. The two had formed an interesting bond during the few times Miranda and Shepard had agreed to watch her.

"Oh my gosh, look at you!" Miranda had returned, and Feron happily handed the little bundle into her outstretched arms. Benezia squealed gleefully as she was passed over into a familiar hold.

"Hello," Miranda greeted the two visitors warmly as Benezia snuggled into her chest, "I'm glad you could make it."

Shepard's jaw dropped, "make it?"

Miranda shrugged at her exasperation, and turned to lead Feron towards the others, swaying the baby slowly from side to side as she moved.

"Miranda! There's nothing for them to make! There's no thing!" but it was a futile effort as she was already gone.

"Liara," Shepard pleaded, "you can't just throw a party at somebody else's house."

She flashed a brilliant smile, "why, Shepard, if you don't want to attend by all means go on upstairs and retire for the night."

Shepard looked a bit hurt, "well I didn't mean-"

"And, Shepard?" Liara continued, thrusting a tray of some weird green food that Shepard hadn't noticed she had been holding into her hands, "it's not a party. It's a family potluck."

As Liara moved to meet up with her family, Shepard wanted to scream.

"Oh man," came a deep voice from the doorway, "you were right, Ash. Maybe we should have left earlier."

"I told you," came the annoyed reply.

Shepard faced them, scowl on her face, "if you guys aren't the last group so help me…."

Though confused, Ashley smiled and Vega laughed it off while slapping a hand on his old commander's shoulder, "Crazy right? James Vega, late to a party."

"It's not a party!" Shepard shouted as she finally snapped, evidently quite loudly as she turned to find all eyes on her.

She glanced around at the friends turned intruders that filled her home. They stood facing her, some looking nervous, some looking amused, and Liara looking quite satisfied with herself. Finally Shepard's gaze met Miranda's. The woman held little Benezia in her arms tightly, resting her chin on the child's head, a pleading look in her eyes.

"It's-it's-" Shepard sighed, sensing defeat. If there was one thing that could always break her at once, it was the begging of Miranda Lawson.

"It's a family potluck."

* * *

"Can somebody please open up the fucking alcohol already?"

* * *

"Hey, Liara. Look at Miranda with Nezi. They're so happy."

"Mmm."

"Do you think we could make a run for it?"

"Feron!"

* * *

"Those three little nasty battletanks! This was a present from the Turian Primarch. A thanks for everything I did. Smashed in two seconds. Just like that. Poof."

"…Shepard?"

"What?"

"Is this a bad time to tell you that I always thought it was kind of ugly?"

"…yeah…it really was. I guess I owe you a thanks, Mordin."

"I. AM. KROGAN."

"Ow."

* * *

"Ori?"

"Yes?"

"I think your sister hates me."

"What?"

"Look she's just sitting there….glaring…"

"Don't be ridiculous, she doesn't-Miranda! Knock that off!"

* * *

"Lola, I think you should slow down with those drinks a bit."

"Remember that time I saved all sentient life?"

"Right, point taken. Drink up."

* * *

"Maybe this is a sign that we shouldn't be smashing our faces against Krogan heads anymore, hmm?"

"You're not a battlemaster, Miranda. You wouldn't understand."

"I don't think I want to. Now hold still, this might sting."

* * *

"Okay, everything on the left is dextroamino. Everything on the right is for the rest of us. Nobody die on my table or I will kill you."

* * *

"Hey! The bread! Pass the bread!"

"Is that safe for me?"

"Tali don't eat that! The left! Stay to the left!"

"Can I eat the left people food if I promise not to die?"

"Excuse me. Bread please."

"Stop hogging the pasta."

"Who ate all the fucking cookies? It's not even time for dessert."

"BREAD!"

"No biotics at the table!"

"Sit down, young lady."

"Grunt, did you eat all my fucking cookies?"

"…No."

"I'm going to kill you."

"No blood on my table."

"You heard the lady. Chakwas, how did you make this?"

"I'll get you the recipe, Shepard. Though I doubt you'll be able to replicate it."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE GET ME SOME BREAD?"

* * *

"Okay, goodnight! See you later! Thanks for…" Shepard slammed the door behind the last few of her departing guests, "…not helping to clean up at all."

She surveyed the damage wearily, the place was a wreck. The table was covered with dirty plates, cups, and silverware. There were damp patches all over the rug and what appeared to be baby Krogan teeth marks on all the legs of the dining room chairs. With a heavy sigh, she set about cleaning the table first, gathering the plates into a neat pile.

Miranda stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching in amusement as the woman grumbled loudly throughout the task. She leaned against the railing casually, a sly smile gracing her features, "Shepard, it's pretty late. Maybe we should just forget about clean up for tonight."

Shepard continued the work without pausing, "No no. I can't leave it to just fester down here. What are you drunk? You hate that. Dirty dishes lying around are like your worst nightmare."

Miranda chuckled, and waited until Shepard turned to face her before she responded, "Maybe. But I _really _think we should leave it for tomorrow."

Shepard's eyes widened in understanding and she let the pile of plates she was holding fall to the table with a loud clatter, moving to Miranda's side in a veritable instant.

"We absolutely must wait until tomorrow to finish those dishes, Miss Lawson," She asserted playfully as she scooped the woman up in her arms and moved up the stairs. "I will not hear a word otherwise."

* * *

Their pace was leisurely despite the late hour, and they moved together until the early hours of the morning had arrived. Miranda was exhausted by the end, though more emotionally than physically. It had been a wild ride, that day. Funny though, how far away the pain of the morning felt, as though it had happened to her in another life. Now she lay, Miranda Lawson, a being of bliss and contentment. The troubles weighing on her heart earlier seemed almost laughable now.

Of course there would always be some part inside of her that remained a small girl, longing for a mother's love and a father's approvable. But that didn't matter, because she was in Shepard's arms, trying to fall asleep before the first rays of sunlight slinked through the blinds and made it impossible. There was nothing but joy to be found in this life she had been given. It may be a reward she was not worthy of, but that would not stop her from soaking up every last bit of it she could.

The morning had been painful, yes, near unbearable. And yet, it was over and done with now, much like most of the demons that had tormented her throughout her adult life. The feelings of despair had slowly faded, overcome with laughter, and delicious food, and playful bickering, and dependable friends. Miranda watched as Jane's breathing deepened, sleep overcoming her quickly as usual. Finally, after all these years, she at last felt completely at home, completely cherished.

No, there might not be room for her on the walls of the Martin home, but that was okay because Shepard had made a family for herself all on her own. And no matter how dysfunctional it was, no matter how many species it was comprised of and no matter how many times they fought with one another, there would most certainly always be a place for Miranda Lawson there.

And that was just perfect.

* * *

A/N: That's it. That's the end. Sorry about all the foolishness if you wanted something dramatic. I'm just not a very serious person. I couldn't bring myself to end it any other way. Anyhow, even if it wasn't great quality, I hope everyone enjoyed the ride while managing to have a laugh or two. I know I did.

Thanks everybody for all the kind words. It was a blast :)


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